“She was anecdotal
in the extreme, turning everything into a story. This became, later on, and
long before the stroke, somewhat edgy. A certain amount of complaining, of
being the great-lady-offended had become habitual. Something on the order of ‘And
do you know who had the nerve to
invite be to dinner last Wednesday?’ And so on. But then it would turn out that
she had gone to dinner, so that the point of the complaint seemed muddled.”
Moss is enjoying
Stafford’s bitchiness, having fun turning her into the literary counterpart of Joan
Crawford, while remaining loyal to a friend. He continues:
“Once she
had taken a real distaste to someone, she refused any invitation, any offer of
friendship. And she made enemies easily by being outspoken, opinionated, strict
in her standards. Once she took a real scunner to someone, she rarely changed
her mind.”
My
spell-check software doesn’t recognize scunner,
suggesting I revise it to scanner, stunner or, even better, skinner. The OED confirms the spelling, says the word was “originally Scottish and northern,” and defines it as “a loathing disgust. Now frequently in
a milder sense: a grudge, repugnance, dislike, esp. in the phrase to
take a scunner at, against, or to.”
Elsewhere in
the Stafford piece, Moss lists some of the people Stafford “liked without
qualification,” including Saul Steinberg, Peter Taylor, Elizabeth Bowen and
Peter De Vries. In a satisfying echo, the OED
cites the use of scunner in the
1974 novel The Glory of the Hummingbird by
Peter De Vries: “He had taken a scunner to me . . . What had soured him on me .
. . had been Jake's replacing him with me.”
Thanks for having written so much about Peter De Vries over the years.
ReplyDeleteI recently re-read "Blood of the Lamb" for the first time since the 1980s, and was shocked by several things: One was the realization I had lived for many years across the street from the very church that figures so prominently toward the end of the book; another was the sad fact that this book - and probably De Vries whole gently gender-ribbing oeuvre - is safer in its current obscurity than it would be aboveground in today's blistering critical atmosphere.