The sequel to Laverty's earlier 'Never No More', which followed teenage Delia Scully growing up in a 1920s Irish village and ended with her Gran's death.
Now we see her aged 17 and setting off on the adventure of life as a governess in Spain. In the 20s it seems Irish girls were quite in demand for this role here, bringing with them the combination of a Catholic upbringing and fluent English:
'It was funny to hear those scions of the Spanish nobility deliver their English in a thick Irish brogue. The heir of Sus Exelencias Los Condes de Villa Hermosa would come running up to his Antrim governess with "Mees, thon boy's after tekken ma wee ball.'"

And in this exotic environment she must steer a path between the prudence and caution advocated by her fellow teachers, and the romance and excitement which her teenage self craves. The children don't get much mention, as Delia Scully is more involved with the adults around her, from the Irish spinsters, each with her own story, to the employers, the men she meets, and the locals- landladies, servants and others. When governessing proves too constricting, she moves on, but with freedom comes the responsibility of providing for herself.
I preferred this slightly to its prequel. Give a vivid picture of the Madrid of a hundred years ago. ( )

My reading for The Seven Ages of Women theme read continues apace, this novel by Irish writer Maura Laverty fitting snuggly into the coming of age section of our list. I think we can all identify with those first stumbling steps of the almost grown, striking out into an uncaring world. Those mistakes, naivetés and youthful passions that wait to trip us up, and show us we’re not so very grown up after all. Maura Laverty understands those pitfalls well, faithfully portraying the path to adulthood that must so quickly be negotiated when one is alone and trying to make a precarious living abroad.

No more Than Human is Maura Laverty’s 1944 sequel to Never no More, which was the wonderfully engaging story of Delia Scully growing up in rural Ireland, living with her adored grandmother. At the conclusion of the previous novel, Delia was on the brink of great change, seventeen and going out into the world alone.

No more than Human, takes up the story of Delia as she arrives in Madrid in 1924 to take up a post as governess. Delia is still very young, not yet eighteen, a head full of dreams, she remains as irrepressible and hot-tempered as ever.

“I had no very well defined plan for the future, but I had a simple and lively belief that my governessing was to be a prelude to something grand and wonderful”

1920madridUpon her arrival in Madrid – dressed Delia firmly believes entirely suitably – the expression on her new employers face tells Delia that she may have made an error. Her coat; rather too small, the satin dress bought for her by her grandmother suddenly seem all wrong. Delia finds she must transform herself into a plain, conventional governess who will fade quietly into the background. Delia’s first employer is Señora Basterra whose disappointment in her new governess becomes quickly apparent. Delia is not quite ready for such a deferential role; the rules of her new world have still to be learnt. Spanish society keeps their governesses firmly in their place, there are few if any hours of freedom, and yet the ex-pat English community had no place for governesses either. Therefore the governesses form a little society all of their own. Delia can’t help but do things in her own way though, she makes friends with servants, goes into kitchens to watch the preparation of Spanish food, declaring the local cuisine to be wonderful, which is not the opinion of all the other non-Spanish governesses, who look with some disapproval on Delia’s enthusiasm.

Delia is given some sensible and sensitive counselling by experienced, middle aged governess Miss Carmody who Delia finds surprisingly sympathetic and who becomes her first and very best friend, despite the disparity in their ages. Miss Carmody is just one of a number of governesses most of them like Delia from Ireland – it seems many Irish Catholic girls were employed by Spanish families at this time – who Delia meets soon after coming to Madrid. The stories of these governesses are quite wonderful in themselves, in that they seem to tell the true unromantic story of such women, stories of unhappiness, loneliness and bitterness.

It isn’t too long before Delia falls foul of the rigidity of her new employment, quite by accident, and with the help of a scarlet bathing costume, Delia gains herself a reputation for being ‘fast’. Delia is dismissed from her job, and acting on advice received from her friends, she decides to strike out on her own. Delia decides to become a “professora,” in Madrid, a free-lance tutor and chaperone, many of the good positions are already filled, and Delia struggles to cope, existing on two small meals a day she watches the weight drop off her. Delia lives in a boarding house, where she makes friends with La Serena – an elderly servant who shows Delia great kindness, and who can’t but help remind Delia of her beloved grandmother.

Not all of Delia’s friends were women however, and Delia falls in love with an entirely unsuitable man, before meeting up again with a young Hungarian who does seem more suitable. All the time she is away, Delia keeps up an affectionate correspondence with Michael, a man from home, someone she met quite briefly but who had never forgotten her. Michael – helps Delia to find magazines who will publish her poems and stories, earning her a small amount of much needed extra money.

While struggling to make ends meet, especially over the difficult summer months when all her potential clients leave Madrid, Delia becomes determined to qualify herself for office work. She is told, in no uncertain terms, that this is a very difficult, nigh on impossible, transition to make. Yet with the help of a friend in the same boarding house, and due diligence in teaching herself shorthand and typing, Delia eventually secures herself a temporary position in an office.

“The sight of the Basque peasants wakened little stirrings in me and a hundred times a day I found myself thinking of how the gorse would be scattering its golden sovereigns at home, and how the banks on the Monasterevan road would be cream splashed with primroses. At the thought of primroses my fingers would feel the sweet coolness of delving deep in the moss and leaves for the little darning wool stems of downy pink”

Yet the pull towards Ireland is never far away, memories of her life with her grandmother, the people of the rural community she always felt at home with always in the back of Delia’s mind.
In writing No More than Human, Maura Laverty used many of her own experiences, and it is these experiences no doubt, that give the novel such a feeling of truth. Delia is a warm and engaging character, her voice so wonderfully distinct.

Both Never no More and No more than Human are delightful novels, I probably liked the first novel slightly more, the setting and the characters are so delightfully engaging, but No More than Human superbly depicts the reality of the work of governesses in the 1920s, and it was so nice to meet up again with Delia. ( )

A couple of years ago I read ‘Never No More’, and I was utterly charmed by the story of Delia Scully, growing up in the care of her grandmother, in a small Irish town, in between the wars. It was wonderful to watch her growing into a lovely young woman, with a warm heart, a lively curiosity, and an impulsive nature.

‘No More Than Human’ opens as Delia arrived in Madrid, on a cold November morning, to become a governess. She had only just turned seventeen, but her grandmother was gone and it was time for Delia to make her own way in the world.

I wasn’t entirely sure that life as a governess would suit Delia, especially as she was so very young, but it was a common path for young Irishwomen of her generation, and it would be a grand adventure.

When she met her new employer, and saw her new employer’s expression, on the station platform she realised that she would have to change. The satin dress that her grandmother had bought for her, the sensible coat that was a little small but so very serviceable had seemed right when she left home, but they would not so for her new life. And it didn’t help that her hair was not behaving itself, that she had applied unfamiliar make-up in a moving train, or that she was carrying all her worldly goods in an antique dress basket…

Delia realised that she had to learn, and learn quickly. She turned herself into a plain, quiet, sensible governess.

But she was still Delia, and she did one or two things that governesses didn’t usually do. She made friends with the servants, and went into the kitchen to learn how to make Spanish food. She explored the town, and made friends with the locals. And one afternoon she went to the beach, in a read swimsuit, with a male friend.

It was entirely innocent, but she gained a reputation for being fast, she lost a job, and after one or two misadventures she realised that her life as a governess was over.

She set off for Madrid, to become a “professora,”a free-lance tutor and chaperone. It was an independent lifestyle that suited Delia very well but it wasn’t easy to establish herself when she was so young, and maybe her reputation would follow her.But Delian was determined, and soon she was setting her sights even higher. She would do what no other Irish governess had done: she would work in an office, in the kind of job that was usually reserved for young Englishwomen.

Maura Laverty catches Delia’s voice beautifully, and the tone is perfect as she looks back, with the wisdom of a few more years life experience, at her time in Spain.

She had so many ups and downs, and I lived through all of the highs and lows with her. There were so many emotions, so many experiences, so many experiences. Living and learning!

I met some wonderful people. Miss Carmondy, the older, wiser governess, who understood Delia and tried to guide her, was a wonderful friend and intriguing character. The story of Miss Wilson, who fled her home and learned to stand on her own two feet when her brother married, was heart-breaking. And La Serena, who Delia met in a Madrid boarding house, could have filled a book by herself …

And, best of all, I came to understand her love for the country, the people, the lifestyle, the cuisine. Delia and her world lived and breathed, and I loved it. She grew up, came of age, and yet she was still the same Delia.

It was so clear Maura Laverty understood – this book has many parallels with her own life – and that understanding really does illuminate this book.

I shall miss Delia now that her story has ended, but I am so very, very glad that we met. ( )

A very charming coming-of-age novel following the adventures of an Irish governess, Delia Scully, in 1920s Madrid, and sequel to Laverty's first novel, 'Never No More'. Its greatest achievement is the narrative voice, colloquial, intimate, self-deprecating, looking and examining her new surroundings in an unprejudiced and enthusiastic manner. The narrative merely strings together her progress through different jobs , different pensions and different men (dastardly Spanish senorito included) in a quasi-picaresque manner. Laverty is particularly good at descriptions of food and cookery (she was also a food writer), and the book includes some fantastic gastronomic asides (I love the description of the churro making process). ( )