Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I read a review of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Frye that said “I hated this as just as I hated Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand.” And I really liked Pilgrimage, so I figured I’d like Pettigrew as well. Boy, was I wrong. A lesson in logic for me: just because A= B, that doesn’t mean not A = not B.
Pettigrew is a romance novel for old people, or, to be specific, a romance novel about old people. And when I say old people, that’s just people old enough to be widows and widowers. And frustrated with how the modern world is taking over. You know, the same old whine that’s been going for, I think, 9000 years or so. Nothing new here, although for the newly old, a sympathetic welcome to their earned right to complain.
For your crumpet lovers, you English country side village and tea and outdated Edwardian more types, there’s plenty for you to sink your teeth into. It’s all so British, isn’t it. And there’s a nice bit of spice in the use of Pakistani foreigners—who are just as British as the rest of them, so the rampant racism is truly hypocritical, what?
And the climax has an honest to goodness windswept cliff, complete with locked and loaded shotgun. So dramatic.
Having recently read England, England, and being reminded that for some of us England is basically Disneyland for Anglophiles, Pettigrew is just another ride to buy tickets for, get on, get off, and forget. I’ll not persuade you one way or another to read or not read this one— rest assured, there’s nothing here to change your mind for or against the thousand other books just like it.