JAY GATSBY—the Oxford man, old sport—threw fabulous parties. ‘Every Friday, five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer in New York—every Monday these same oranges and lemons left his back door in a pyramid of pulpless halves,’ wrote F. Scott Fitzgerald in the 1925 novel The Great Gatsby. A RollsRoyce became an omnibus, transporting guests to and from the city, a full orchestra was installed and the night air was filled with cocktails, quickly forgotten introductions and splendid frivolity.
As Gatsby set about decorating his Long Island home like the World’s Fair, a party planner of a different ilk was preparing a London soirée. In Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway, published in the same year, the eponymous host Clarissa famously decides to buy the flowers herself. The Great War had thrown a stone into the lake and the ripples continued to expand: Dalloway ruminates on her place in society; a war veteran throws himself out of a window. Yet the tragedy also feeds a hunger to live, to unbutton collars and raise hemlines; liquor is quicker and so are the dances. There will be consequences to this hard-fought emancipation—and, like the millions who spent on the never-never, we don’t want to think about the present. So raise a gin cobbler to those short years in the mid 1920s when world peace seemed possible, the economy and the music were booming—and British creativity fizzed.
Denne historien er fra August 16, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra August 16, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery