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Alan Bennett, The lady in the van

March 18, 2010

It is a truism that truth is stranger than fiction, and Alan Bennett’s The lady in the van is one work that proves it. It is strange – and wonderful – that a woman could have lived the way the eponymous lady did for as long as she did, and it is equally strange – and wonderful – that Bennett allowed her to do so in his front yard for as long as he did.

This piece was first published in the London Review of Books in 1989, but I only happened across it this year, twice! First was in the form of a BBC-4 audio CD given to my mother-in-law for Christmas by my brother. She was both mystified and entranced by it and insisted I hear it. Second was, soon after, in a review by kimbofo at Reading Matters. It became clear that this was meant to be my year for The lady in the van! And so, a couple of weeks ago I finally heard the CD, and today I finished the book. Like many before me, I was charmed.

The lady in the van is a simple tale about an eccentric old lady (though she’s only in her late 50s when the story starts in 1969) who lives in a van which Bennett eventually allows her to park in his front yard. That was in March 1974 and it continued until her death in 1989. Fifteen years! It reminded me a little of the Maylses Brothers‘ documentary film, Grey Gardens, which documents the lives of Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter, also Edith Bouvier Beale, Jackie Kennedy’s aunt and cousin. Due to lack of funds they lived for years in dilapidation and squalor. But, while Bennett’s lady, Miss Shepherd, also lived in squalor, it’s the feisty eccentricity in all these women that associate them in my mind. They are all women who, despite their rather desperate circumstances (for whatever reason), refused to be ground down by it, who maintained some sense of pride and self in the face of a life most of us could not comprehend.

Anyhow, back to Bennett. The story is told primarily through diary excerpts, with a brief introduction, and a postscript added in 1994. In the beginning, there was Miss Shepherd (the name she gives but not her real name) and she was parked in the street in Alan Bennett’s neighbourhood. The first diary entry starts in October 1969, nearly 5 years before she moves into his front yard. Bennett explains how it is that she managed to live in her van on the neighbourhood streets for so long:

What made the social set-up funny was the disparity between the style in which the new arrivals found themselves able to live and their progressive opinions: guilt, put simply, which today’s gentrifiers are said famously not to feel … There was a gap between our social position and our social obligations. It was in this gap that Miss Shepherd (in her van) was able to live.

The whole thing does, I have to say, sound particularly English – the tolerance that enabled her to live that way for so long, and the polite and reserved rather than familiar “relationship” she and Bennett maintained over the years. Throughout the twenty years that the story covers, we learn a fair amount about Miss Shepherd despite her pretty effective attempts to keep herself to herself. We learn that she is committed to the Catholic Church (had in fact tried to be a nun) and politically conservative, and that she occupies herself selling pencils and writing letters and pamphlets. We also learn some things about Bennett, that he is kind (keeping an eye on her throughout, while respecting her privacy) but also that he likes a quiet life:

I was never under any illusion that the impulse [to let her in and stay] was purely charitable … But I wanted a quiet life as much as, and possibly more than, she did.

Bennett gives us a vivid picture of Miss S, through her bizarre sense of dress (including a skirt made of dusters) and her little speech mannerisms, such as her frequent use of the word “possibly”. One of Miss S’s problems is hygiene and toileting, and by the end she is incontinent. Throughout the story, Bennett refers to the smell (stench, actually) of her van. One day he mentions the smell to her, and she responds:

Well, what can you expect when they’re [construction workers] raining bricks down on me all day? And then I think there’s a mouse. So that would make a cheesy smell, possibly.

This is a woman with pride, despite the destitute situation she finds herself in. She is also resilient and sly, and contrives to pretty well always get what she wants. Bennett tells the story with humour but not patronisingly – and this is because it’s a humour that contains admiration for her resourcefulness, for someone who “even when she is poorly … knows exactly what she is about”. How could he do otherwise with a woman who announces to him: “I was a born tragedian … or a comedian possibly”. He clearly struggles with how much he should intervene and how much he wants to intervene. It’s a pretty invidious position to be in really – how far can you (should you, do you) extend charity?

All this said, there is something uncomfortable about it all, as there is about Grey Gardens, and this is the voyeurism involved. Both are truly fascinating stories – but a fascination tinged with horror. Are we plundering their lives for our own entertainment, or are we learning something about the resilience of the human spirit? It’s a fine line: I think Bennett, like the Maysles, has managed to draw it in the right place, and this is because of the humility and real affection with which they have presented these women. Bennett ends up, in the postscript

wondering at the bold life she has had and how it contrasts with my own timid way of going on – living, as Camus said, slightly the opposite of expressing. And I see how the location of Miss Shepherd’s van in front but to the side of where I write is the location of most of the stuff I write about; that too is to the side, and never what faces me.

Bennett, Alan
The lady in the van
London: Profile Books, 1999
92pp.
ISBN: 9781861971227

Bennett, Alan
The lady in the van (audio)
BBC Audiobooks, 2009
85 mins running time

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15 Comments leave one →
  1. March 19, 2010 7:53 am

    This seems to epitomise that saying about the truth being stranger that fiction! What a fascinating story… though I probably could have lived without hearing of the “cheesy smell”! 😛

    • March 19, 2010 10:02 am

      Just as well I didn’t give you the “manure” story as well, or the …. no, I think I’ll stop there.

  2. March 20, 2010 1:37 am

    Definitely a unique publication. I am impressed by your catalogue information at the bottom of your posts these days!

  3. March 20, 2010 5:17 am

    What an intriguing sounding book. Is this the same Alan Bennett who wrote The Uncommon Reader?

    • March 20, 2010 10:07 am

      Tom: It is, isn’t it? It’s strange how such works can be around for a long time and you don’t come across it! Thanks re catalogue information. Lisa (ANZLitLovers) and I both decided to do it around the same time a few months ago – though she also adds her source and price. I only do the source if it’s a review copy supplied to me.

      Stefanie: Yes it is … and in fact I reviewed it on my bookgroup’s blog before I set this one up: http://minervareads.blogspot.com/2009/05/alan-bennetts-uncommon-reader.html
      Did you read The uncommon reader? I think both are the sorts of books you could easily read more than once.

      • March 23, 2010 1:12 am

        Oh yes, I have read The Uncommon Reader and loved it. I will have to look for this one!

  4. March 20, 2010 12:48 pm

    Here’s a little bit of fun: http://desertbookchick.com/?p=551

    I’ve passed on a blog award to you – please don’t feel that you have to ‘do’ anything with it. It’s a little bit of appreciation for encouraging me to keep blogging.

    Bennett’s book is going on my TBR list. In many ways it mirrors the situation that I (and many other residents of Central Australia) find ourselves in with many Aboriginal people. How far should charity extend? When is it right to intervene and when should one not intervene or get too close?

  5. March 20, 2010 2:15 pm

    Kate Grenville also wrote on the theme of the eccentric bag lady in Lilian’s Story, which won the Vogel (I think).
    I think she’s on the right side of the resilience/voyeurism angle!

  6. March 20, 2010 5:30 pm

    Amanda – wow, thanks for that. I’m not very good at managing blog awards but I sincerely thank you for your vote of commendation. You made me laugh about the beach! You are so right – but my friends know that I will die if I have to touch the sand! Desert sand is OK but beach sand, yuk!! AND I love the way you have interpreted my comments on the book to apply to our situation here.

    Lisa – yes, good catch. She did. I actually don’t think I’ve read that (though I could be wrong – books are starting to blur!) – just saw the movie with the wonderful Ruth Cracknell. Did you notice that Bea Miles got a brief (though passing) reference in Appo?

  7. March 21, 2010 5:54 pm

    I think almost everyone got a passing reference in Appo LOL!

  8. September 21, 2015 11:43 am

    WG,

    If it’s not due to the upcoming movie, I wouldn’t have known about this amazing story! And what a character… I think Maggie Smith would be able to nail it. What do you think? Hope it will come to my city, since I’m not at TIFF this year. And thanks for your detailed and thorough review. I love Bennett’s postscript, humble and inspiring. Thanks again for stopping by Ripples and letting me know about your review. I love these mutual exchanges of info and feedbacks. 🙂

    • September 21, 2015 3:28 pm

      Yes, I’ve see the trailers and Maggie Smith looks absolutely perfect in terms of my “reading” of the character. She can do “dames” of all classes and types so well, can’t she! The Lady in the Van book is VERY short. It’s worth reading if you can get it. And yes, I love these exchanges too.

      • September 21, 2015 3:37 pm

        No time now. Maybe later. Getting ready for my New England road trip. I think Lady in the Van is a play, isn’t it? Also, another recent film Maggie S. is in, with Kristin Scott Thomas and Kevin Kline, My Old Lady, is also quite well done.

        • September 21, 2015 4:45 pm

          The lady in the van first appeared as a non-fiction work (I’m not sure what you would call it, a non-fiction story, a sort of memoir of Bennett’s relationship with the Lady) in the London Review of Books in 1989. My version is one of those “little” books published by Profile Books (in association with the London Review of Books) in 1999. It was written by Bennett, who much later, I believe, wrote the play. The little blurb at the front of my books says it is his most famous piece of non-fiction.

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