The L-Shaped Room

Listeners to BBC UK’s radio program Women’s Hour recently chose this book as one of the top 30 titles in a list of women’s watershed fiction. I decided the time was ripe to revisit this book and find out why.
Even at first glance, it’s not hard to understand – The L-Shaped Room broke a lot of 60s taboos. It had a strong, independent heroine, who fell pregnant out of wedlock and decided to have her baby, against the conventions of the times. It featured Jews, blacks and prostitutes in sympathetic roles, and exposed society’s double standards on the repercussions sex out of wedlock. Yes, it is a bit dated now, but it still packs a punch.
The main character is Jane Graham, who finds herself pregnant after a less than fulfilling loss of virginity. (Yes, women were virgins into their late 20s in the 60s.) Tossed out by her outraged father, Jane gets herself a room in a dingy boarding house – the L-shaped room of the title. In spite of her determination to remain aloof, Jane becomes involved with the other tenants, notably a failed Jewish writer called Toby, a black jazz musician called John, and a gossipy old dear called Mavis.
Reid Banks’ strength has always been atmosphere. Indeed, the L-shaped room itself seems to be the strongest character in the book and she evokes the seedy district of Fulham with precision. But she was writing from a 60s viewpoint, and to a 21st Century perspective, and some of the characters jar – especially the jazz player. You can’t imagine Morgan Freeman playing this shambling, blubbery, clumsy character that seems to have stepped straight from the pages of Gone With The Wind, rather than real life. It is annoying that Aunt Addie, a pivotal character, isn’t mentioned until almost halfway through the book – considering her importance to Jane’s story, she seems to wander in almost as an afterthought.
The book was filmed in the 60s, with some strange changes – Jane, for example, was played by French actress Leslie Caron. It was as if the film makers thought the audience would find the whole thing more acceptable if the fallen woman wasn’t a decent English gal – Frenchwomen, it seemed to say, are more likely to be `that sort’.
John was played by Brock Peters, from the movie version of another watershed book, To Kill a Mockingbird.
This book takes the reader back into another time as a recreated TV series or modern novel simply cannot do – Reid Banks speaks in the language of the times. For example, although there are homosexual characters in the book, the word gay is not used in reference to either of them. There are passages that will grate on the nerves of the politically correct, and an eye opening awareness that, in spite of the rigid conventions left over from the 50s, this decade really was a time when you could choose to be a starving writer, a struggling jazz musician, or an unwed mother, and still find a place to belong. Strangely enough, when you put the book down, you realize that people who do not fit in with society are far less acceptable, and far more likely to fall through the cracks, now.
There is no doubt in my mind why Women’s Hour listeners were so affected by this book. Even after all this time, Jane stands out as a woman who chose to carve her own destiny – an achievement in any decade.

No Comments

No comments yet.

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.