An Irish girl fights her own WWI battles: White Feathers

Review: Susan Lanigan’s well-researched debut has an unusual point of view, but it’s uneven

White Feathers
White Feathers
Author: Susan Lanigan
ISBN-13: 978-184717-704-9
Publisher: Brandon
Guideline Price: €14.99

Following the publication of Martine Madden's Anyush earlier this centenary year, Brandon has published another Irish debut novel centred on the first World War. White Feathers tells the story of a 17-year-old girl who escapes from her gloomy, Cinderella-like existence by going to an English finishing school in 1913.

Although glad to be away from her loveless London home, Eva Downey still yearns for her childhood in Ireland and her mother, who died when she was five. Her father remarried his housemaid, Catherine, and uprooted the family to England. Eva’s poorly older sister Imelda and Catherine’s sly daughter Grace make up the rest of this unhappy bunch.

At The Links, Eva is mocked by her classmates for her initiative and intelligence. Her sole friend is the likeable and spirited Sybil, whose own awakening as a woman of that era acts as an interesting subplot. An English teacher, Christopher, recognises Eva’s potential but the bond that develops between them is interrupted when Eva is forced to come home and look after Imelda.

A larger interruption comes with the outbreak of war, which looms over the story from the beginning. Responsibility is a major theme. Grand notions of duty have disastrous results for individuals.

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Shame campaign

The title refers to a real-life campaign in wartime Britain in which groups of women pinned feathers on non-uniform-wearing men to shame them into enlisting. With the threat of a dying sister held over her, Eva is coerced into humiliating Christopher in such fashion. It is interesting historical material, highlighting a darker side of patriotism.

Author Susan Lanigan has a masters in creative writing from NUI Galway and her short fiction has appeared in publications such as The Stinging Fly, in addition to being shortlisted for the Hennessey New Writing award. Her debut novel looks at the war from unusual perspectives. It's well-researched and succeeds in depicting the reality behind the dulce et decorum.

Eva’s disastrous marriage to a family friend is short-lived when he is executed for desertion. Christopher is shipped to an “asylum” on the Isle of Wight with other soldiers who have post-traumatic stress disorder, or “Not Yet Diagnosed, Nervous” as it was called then. Eva’s Jamaican nurse tells of how “mulattos” like her are called to serve but not recognised for their efforts.

Eva is a well-drawn character, whose determination to break free from her miserable family wins the reader’s affection. Her story is let down, however, by the cast of villainous characters surrounding her. For the most part, they are melodramatic and lack dimension.

Catherine is a wicked stepmother, thwarting Eva’s happiness at every turn, her servant back story offering only a fraction of insight into her character. Catherine’s power over Eva borders on fairytale as she dispatches spies to watch her stepdaughter, even on the front. Dealing with one such custodian causes Eva to feel ill: “She almost wished she were pregnant again, if only because it would have been so much easier to puke.” Given what Eva has gone through a few scenes earlier, this seems an unlikely sentiment.

Incredible father

Eva’s father also lacks credibility, refusing his daughters everything, from vital medical treatment to a proper burial. Although cruel to Eva, Grace is a more believable character, her resentment towards her stepsister shown to the reader through action. But this does not save her from sudden swings and dramatic outbursts: “You lying bitch. You never meant a word of it, did you?”

Christopher’s pompous friend, Gabriel, is a caricature of an embittered soldier, viciously lashing out: “Typical woman, all manners and artifice on the surface, but underneath you are all little alley cats.” Gabriel’s uncle is a brigadier who taunts mentally ill soldiers. While Lanigan uses his public humiliations to highlight the belittlement of traumatised soldiers, his displays of cruelty seem over the top for a man of his standing.

The story flows best when related by Eva or Sybil. Letters are used to good effect and provide a platform to other voices. Dialogue can be stilted, particularly with Christopher’s schoolteacher. The banter between him and Eva, intended to show their love of literature and each other, falls flat at times: “I’ll see you, my Counter-cheque Quarrelsome,” Eva said, “and raise you your own Lie Direct.”

There’s plenty of action in this lengthy novel, but pacing is problematic. A scene depicting the mass slaughter of passengers in a ship’s propeller feels particularly rushed. Storylines get tied up quickly in the final section.

White Feathers made it out in time for the centenary but with a bit more care it could have been a better read.

Sarah Gilmartin

Sarah Gilmartin

Sarah Gilmartin is a contributor to The Irish Times focusing on books and the wider arts