#ma larkin

Not so much in terms of the gothic aesthetic, but as a subversion of what society considered to be the norm. This book was written in the 1950s, a time of austerity in the UK, prior to the sexual liberation of the 60s and 70s, a time when the idea of the stiff upper lip was an ideal rather than a cliché. The Larkins consume as much as they like, by fair means and foul, they are openly and healthily emotional, and - most significantly - they embrace sexuality in a way that made me in the 21st century blush slightly. They don't even conform to the skinny-girl ideal that was popular at the time, some of the most lavish and blush inducing descriptions surround Florence 'Ma' Larkin, Sidney 'Pop' Larkins 36 year old wife, who is also stated to take up the space of half of the side of a dining table. Neither do they keep things strictly monogamous, the Larkins are essentially in an open relationship, openly so, each of Ma and Pop approves of the other's extramarital liaisons. I say extramarital but the Larkins aren't actually married, as is revealed at the end of the book, they never got around to it, but - seven children and twenty years or more in - they're none the worse for it.

This is a book that celebrates the antithesis of what we're considered British values, just as the Addams family embodied the antithesis of the American Dream. The Larkins even have improbable relatives that crop up at random.

1.03 In Which Pop and Ma Go on Holiday

Like I don’t understand why we’re not all screaming about this.

Pam Ferris in the Darling Buds of May

Because Ma and Pop seem perfectly happy in their sunny, idilic life when the show takes place, but let me paint you a picture.

It’s the 1930s, or thereabouts. A barmaid works in a pub. She’s 17, the best cook in the county, and she’s got her whole life ahead of her.

A man comes in one day, about 30, or thereabouts, and he flirts with her. That’s not unusual, of course. Everyone flirts with her. But this one has a way with words and a way of getting what he wants, and before she knows it, she’s agreed to elope with him.

So they elope. She leaves behind her family and her friends for this man and- he doesn’t marry her.

It’s the 1930s, living with him without being married means alienation from all her family and friends and the entire town, and he doesn’t marry her.

He tells her it’s fine. She misses her family. But there’s nothing she can do. She has his babies. Baby after baby after baby. He tells her it’s ok and she has no choice but to be happy about it. There are no other options.

She is not the only one he shares his nights with. He tells her that’s fine too. He tells her it’s fine if she shares her bed with others too, but she doesn’t much like that idea.

He drinks.

She can either talk to him about it (he won’t listen) or she can drink too. She drinks too, and mostly it’s fun. But sometimes she remembers the drunks from her bartending days, the people who couldn’t face themselves and drank so they wouldn’t have to, and she wonders why Pop drinks.

She doesn’t know exactly how he got out of serving during the Second World War, and she doesn’t like to think about it, but she wonders if it’s maybe the guilt that makes him drink.

Her 15 year old goes after an older man, at one point. She doesn’t get involved. If she lets her think about that too much, she doesn’t think she’ll like her husband much anymore.

…do you see what I’m saying?

LIKE SURE WE LOVE HIM AS AN ADULT. But when you take them back twenty years, he doesn’t look so good, does he?

No he’s a draft dodging pedophile who told his child bride that it was perfectly fine not to marry her, sorry if your family don’t want to see you again, also you’ll be isolated and shunned by the community, and also I will be sleeping around probably, good luck little 17 year old girl. I will also be dodging taxes so there’s every chance I might go to prison and leave you and our ten million children to fend for yourself.