“You cannot beat a roulette table unless you steal money from it.” (Albert Einstein)

It’s been hugely stressful few weeks, which meant my reading has fallen off a cliff. I didn’t get to my final read for #WITMonth but I hope to at some point (Magda Szabo’s The Door, where the bookmark has sat at page 50 for four weeks, despite my really enjoying it), and we’re two-thirds through September where I’ve failed to take part in SpinsterSeptember or ShortStorySeptember, both of which I was really looking forward to.

However… I have handed in my notice at work now, with no job to go to…

And while this is incredibly anxiety-provoking I think it speaks to it being the right decision that my reading has resumed (imperfectly, but resumed!) and I’m catching up on the blogosphere too 😊

So, this is a contribution to Short Story September hosted by Lisa at ANZ Lit Lovers. Hopefully I’ll get to some more of the short stories languishing in the TBR, even if it will be fewer than I planned. Do head over to Lisa’s blog to find out more, and join in!

The Casino by Margaret Bonham (1948), a collection of short stories which is Persephone No.48 and features an enlightening forward by Bonham’s daughter, Cary Bazalgette. Lisa has asked us to focus on one story, so I’m just going to focus on the titular one, but the whole collection is really a strong one.

A group of teenage girls are excited and trepidatious at the thought of going unaccompanied to the casino in the French seaside town in which they are holidaying. Bonham captures perfectly that time of life when you are not quite an adult and are impatient to experience the adult world, while finding the whole prospect terrifying and wishing you could be at home in your pyjamas.

“In the dusk, Giselle waited outside the iron gates. Her frock was pink and stuck out like a cake-frill, she undulated and giggled. In a line of four they went down the street towards the sea, past Sainte Claire where Giselle waved and Valentine looked sideways at seeing M. Chabouillard’s face a round whiskered disapproving moon at the window. Between Kitty’s steel confidence and Valentine’s detachment, Rhys walked with her eyes on the heaving channel, thinking of ruin.”

In a short space Bonham draws fully recognisable portraits of the girls. Kitty is determined to get on with adult life, Rhys is scared by the whole thing, Giselle naïve and child-like, Valentine somewhat indifferent and preoccupied with her painting.

The evening is one of anticipation, and of course it is an anti-climax:

“The restaurant was half-full, stuck with pink paper roses in white and gilt trellis. At the far end a damp, pink band played, the floor was cleared for dancing, the tables crowded round the walls. Kitty looked sulky, and ordered coffee without asking if anyone wanted something else, and at this Rhys was very much relieved, for her anxious fears had drawn a table covered with bottles of brandy, the bill paid by a leering stranger and Kitty the receipt. In her dark-red dress that gave her no pleasure she sat breathing carefully with her back to the wall.”

My comparable teenage experiences were of south London pubs and horrible West End nightclubs 😀 Yet this description of a provincial French casino really evoked for me the disappointment of the banal detail found in something you’ve been simultaneously dreading and enticed by when you’re a young adult.

It’s the perfect story with which to start the collection. Margaret Bonham really understands the art of the short story. Not a word is wasted in her sharply observed tales, and she writes with a light touch that belies her acute psychological observations.

To end, regular readers will be familiar with who I turn to in times of stress (although I must say I’ve been really touched by the unwavering support of my friends. There were some I put off telling because I thought they’d say “What the hell are you thinking???” They didn’t, and I feel quite teary about it all. Almost worth handing in my notice for!) Now back to David:

32 thoughts on ““You cannot beat a roulette table unless you steal money from it.” (Albert Einstein)

  1. I’m sorry to hear of your woes, MB but I can’t imagine you handed in your notice without good reason – so good for you. Losing yourself in a few good books is a great stress reliever. Be kind to yourself. Things will work out in the long run. They nearly always do, I find. 🤗

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Sorry to hear about your months of horribilis at work. It must feel a little like stepping out into the unknown again with leaving but the way your reading has recovered would seem to be proof that deep down you know it was the right and courageous thing to do. Be kind to yourself while you process it all and I hope you find much solace in your reading again.

    I am very glad to see you back on the blogosphere; I have missed your inspiring reviews 😊

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I had a time like this in my career where I risked everything and walked out of where I was and into the unknown, facing the possibility of selling stockings in a department store instead of in the career I’d worked so hard to have. The fear lasted only a fortnight or so until I found somewhere I could work with integrity, but it was a very long fortnight filled with sleepless nights and I remember the stress of it only too well. So my thoughts are with you, and I am honoured that you have chosen to use this time to contribute to #SSS.

    If there is such a thing as karma, then I’m sure that the good wishes of all who have come to know you through your blog will bring a resolution to your troubles quickly. Stay strong!

    Liked by 2 people

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  5. I thought it had been quiet on the Madame Bibi front! Sounds like you’ve had a big few weeks but also that you’ve made the right decision. I reckon when we feel ‘stuck’ by our circumstances, it’s because we don’t have enough supports around us to make a change (whatever those ‘supports’ look like). When a change requires a big leap, there’s always going to be a degree of anxiety. But you’ve done it, and now the other bits will become clearer and fall into place. I hope it all settles quickly.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. When it reaches a point that work is causing serious stress and no sign of it getting better, then walking out is the best solution! I’m sure you’ll find something better, but I hope you can take a little while out before committing to a new job – I always looked on periods of unemployment as extended holidays (while quietly hoping they didn’t extend too far!) So I’ll just say – Enjoy your break! 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  7. As a young pup just out of university, my first full-time job was with a library wholesaler. That day, my dear late mum said, “They’re lucky to have you.” When I resigned four years later, she said, “They were lucky to have had you.” I’ve thought of these words often – not only when starting or ending employ, but during days of challenge and drudgery in between.

    I pass them on to you. They were lucky to have had you.

    Liked by 3 people

  8. Oh my goodness, Madame B! I’m sorry you had such a stressful time and it must have been bad to have left the job. I sympathise… (I’m currently edging towards a similar course myself, I think). I hope you feel better being away from it. Reading is a help, always, and this Persephone collection sounds particularly good!

    Liked by 2 people

  9. I’m sorry to hear of your troubles, Madame B.! I’m also in a similar uncomfortable transition phase in my career, and it’s not easy — but in the cheerful words of the great Antal Szerb, “as long as there is life, there is always the chance that something may happen!” May what happens to you next bring you joy and much more peace and satisfaction than the job you just left.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. I really admire you, that’s a very courageous step to take; I hope you can enjoy your time knowing that nothing ever stays the same, so something will come along and you’re right to take comfort in David (and Persephone)!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Sounds like that’s the best decision you could have made, and things do have a habit of working out for the best. I’ve had to walk out of some jobs, and it’s never easy, but I’m sure you have many transferable skills and will be able to find something that suits better. At the moment my husband is going through this dilemma and I am hoping he will be able to make a decision soon as it’s horrible to go through working in a difficult place and really saps one. Happy reading – I see you’re reading the Silver Moon bookshop one now (or so it says here) and I’m sure that’s comforting!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Liz! I hope your husband is able to find an answer that works for him soon. As you say, it’s very stressful.

      I’ve a few books on the go at the moment which isn’t like me at all, I usually read one at a time! But it seems to be working for now 🙂

      Like

  12. I’m so sorry to hear it’s been a stressful time for you lately, but this decision definitely sounds like the right one for you. If it’s any help, I went through a similar transition 20 years ago when I decided to give up my job to go freelance, and while everything felt very uncertain for a while, it all worked out remarkably well in the end. Looking back, I can honestly say that it was the best decision I ever made, and hopefully the same will be true for you.

    As for the book, I don’t think I’ve come across this writer before, but the sharpness of her observations sounds right up my street. Many thnanks!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks Jacqui, that is really helpful to hear. Fingers crossed it all works out so well for me!

      I think you’d like this collection, I found it really well observed. I’ll look forward to hearing how you find it if you get to it!

      Like

  13. Like the other commenters here, I applaud your bravery and hope it’s all uphill from this point.

    As a wicked bit of sympathy and, I’m afraid, self-promotion, I offer the last line of James Wright’s poem “Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota,” which I shamelessly stole for my own poem “Ransom Hall” in my new volume, After Kenyon, and which I read ironically: “I have wasted my life.”

    How can a bibliophile life be wasted?

    Liked by 1 person

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  15. I’ve wondered what was preoccupying you (yes, I am nosy by nature), and now I understand how all-consuming that situation would be. Work-related stress is awful. But how wonderful that your friends have been so supportive, and that you’ve had so many encouraging comments here, too, about decisions to leave that particular stress behind and move into the unknown. Transitions are very hard. And with the geo-political situation so precarious now, I imagine that’s heightened. But over the course of a lifetime, this is a small bit of time…soon you will know what’s in the “next chapter” for you and you will wonder why you were so worried, on the other side of all this! xo

    The Casino, on the Persephone list, intrigued me for its title (seemingly so not-Persephone-ish!) and now I know it’s short stories I am extra-intrigued!

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