The Last September

Elizabeth Bowen’s The Last September takes place during the Anglo-Irish war, and centers around a country estate or “big house” in Cork. The fictional Danielstown resembles the author’s family home, Bowen’s Court, built by a wealthy ancestor of hers in the 18th century. The original member of the Bowen family in Ireland had come over the century before, with Cromwell’s army.

Bowen creates a strong sense of place in her novels, probably because she shuttled from relative to relative for much of her youth. She did not get to inhabit Bowen’s Court in a settled, continuous manner. Her father suffered a nervous breakdown when she was seven, after which she and her mother moved to England for several years. At the age of thirteen, her mother died, and her “battery of aunts” took turns looking after her. By the time she returned to her father’s care, Ireland had grown increasingly unstable and her childhood home attracted unwelcome attention. Cork saw some of the most intense fighting of the war for Irish independence, and many houses like hers burned to the ground as part of it.

Bowen wrote the novel in 1929, relatively close to the tumultuous time it depicts. The main character, Lois, obviously captures some of Bowen’s own recent memories. Lois lives at Danielstown with her aunt and uncle, the Naylors. Despite the war raging around them, the family pretends that life can continue as normal. The story begins with the arrival of guests, family friends visiting to play tennis and reminisce about old times. Yet even among this seemingly nonchalant group a current of tension runs through their interactions. Lois hides the letter she is writing from a servant’s prying eyes. The Naylors forget their exact degree of distance from their old friends, and find their small talk marred by “puzzled silence.” The visitors do not know what approach to take to the state of the country. One of them asks Danielstown’s owner, Sir Richard, “Are you sure we will not be shot at if we sit out late on the steps?” Sir Richard treats the question as a joke, and teases his guest about having become too English, but hardly dispels the party’s unease.

Even the description of the house’s environs conveys threat:

Does this “orange bright sky” portend fire?

The first night of the visit does not pass without incident. When the group manages to sit out on the steps, they hear a loud noise—a military vehicle on patrol, not gunshots. Though the vehicle protects rather than threatens them, it does suggest that there is something out there to be protected from.

As the adults and Lady Naylor’s nephew retreat inside, Lois takes a short walk under the trees. She sees an unfamiliar figure in a trench coat, and stands still, observing silently, wondering who he could be. Her attitude is more curious than terrified, her imagination hitting on the idea that the man could be there to dig up guns buried on the property or find a shortcut to meet his comrades over the next hill. Lois belongs to the house and its residents, but her sympathies are not set in stone. She views herself as someone who “never refused a role.” The adults around her think that she is young, and therefore seeking fun and distraction—this is why she goes to dances with soldiers in the area, or exchanges notes with them. But what other roles are there for her to play?

The Last September is extremely atmospheric. The house it conjures feels real, grounded in detail. The slightest breeze on its nearby leaves comes through the pages. The Naylors and their kind suppress their emotions, but they filter out into their surroundings becoming another kind of character. The novel has the immediacy and intensity of lived experience—lived at a time of great unrest—borrowed from Bowen’s own.