Keeping Up Appearances
Reckoning the differences between the inner and outer life
The cover of the book Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont suggests a whimsical, light novella, perhaps about travel, perhaps about the rich. Surely the pastel pinks and blues suggest Spring and while the pavement is painted a rainy London grey, there is a sense that the novel might still be expected to be colored by flowers, joy, youth, and delight. And yet the outside of this novel is strikingly different from the inside. The inside contains a story more fit for Fall or Winter, characterized by settling down rather than traveling; a contemplation of old age rather than youth, and loneliness more often than joy. Is the cover deceptive then? In a way it is. But it also hints at one of the contemplations of the novel, which is that of reckoning appearances with reality.
The book follows the story of Mrs. Palfrey, an old lady who moves into the Claremont hotel as a long term resident because she can no longer keep up a house of her own. A few other elderly residents live there as well, all with their own strange habits and quirky, sometimes downright rude, personalities. (This book has such perfect descriptions of these elderly characters, how they think and act, that it’s worth reading just for that reason alone). And yet there is more going on in each one of these residents than meets the eye. Inner pain, embarrassment, love, and jealousy keep all of them from revealing their true thoughts and feelings to the outer world. They are all desperate to be seen in a certain way, desperate to be loved and visited by family and admired by the other residents. This desire of keeping up appearances brings Mrs. Palfrey into an acquaintance with Ludo, a young writer, whom she invites to the Claremont for supper under pretense of being her grandson. The two of them appear to the other residents to be a picture perfect grandma and grandson. Who would not be envious of the laughing and joking and carrying on at their table? But it’s all a facade. They’ve only just met. Instead of a deep and familial attachment, Ludo has only a free meal and a notebook full of notes from the dinner for his novel. Mrs. Palfrey has only her absent, unloving true grandson and a small, hopeful acquaintance with a young man who has no attachment to her.
As the book progresses we see how loneliness ties all of these characters together. They’re all so desperate for love and friendship, and no one seems willing to give it to them. We watch Mrs. Palfrey and Ludo with bated breath, wondering always if their relationship can blossom into the healing friendship they both need, or if it will end with them simply using one another and keeping up appearances. Does Ludo actually like Mrs. Palfrey as she likes and even loves him? Whether he does or not, the novel seems to say, is less important than the appearance he makes of loving her. On the times when he reaches out to her- picking her up from the sidewalk, inviting her for dinner, visiting her, showing up for her, reading to her- it means the world to her. She is lonely and neglected by her own family. She doesn’t know whether he feels love for her inside, but she does see the outward actions of love when she needs it most. That’s enough for her.
This book is a great reminder that, for the people in your life that depend on you for human interaction, whom you may or may not particularly want to spend time with, your small offering of time and conversation and interest is worth millions. And this is true even if you do it for appearance’s sake. You can’t read this novel and not question how we ever thought that leaving our grandparents or neighbors alone and unvisited (during Covid or any other time) was ever possibly the right thing to do. It is so easy for us to put off a visit. It means the entire world for them if we don't.
But in counterpoint to that, the novel has us contemplate how friendship can also exist where appearances suggest otherwise. You may not guess from the outside that the residents at the Claremont care much at all for one another. And yet beneath the jealousy, the judgement, the quirks, the differences, in the end the other residents at the Claremont care about Mrs. Palfrey as her family should, while her own family cares nothing underneath the pretenses they occasionally make. Perhaps they could have lived with less loneliness if they were willing to let their care for each other show, instead of fighting for the admiration and envy of those in the same position as themselves.
It is Mrs. Palfrey’s outer behavior, her manners and strength of character, that gets the respect and admiration and love from others at the hotel. Even though her inner life is plagued by uncertainty, melancholy, loneliness, and embarrassment, when others look at her they see a sort of nobility in her. It helps a few of them to rise to new heights of virtue themselves. It is her willingness to reach out to Ludo, even at the cost of embarrassment, that builds a relationship between them. It is her ability to rise above some of the ridiculousness of the other residents that gets her their admiration. It is her ability not to always say exactly what’s on her mind that helps her to have the relationships she does have. Many of the appearances in this book are misleading, but at least one proves true: Mrs. Palfrey is a gentlewoman who retains her dignity even in the face of a difficult old age. She has had a good life.
This delightfully good cover hides a very good book. Wrestling through the differences between the inside and the outside is just part of the task of reading it. And read it, you should.