Millicent is dying in a nursing home reminiscing about her life long life. Millicent is a woman who has never been fully sure of herself. We see her as a child asking her nanny why she has to live within her body. We see her as a young woman wondering how any eligible bachelor will take an interest in her. We see her as the wife of an older, assured man upon whom she becomes dependent. We suffer with her as a gigolo seduces her, wastes her money, and abandons her. And we feel ourselves with her as she struggles to be understood through her stroke and disorientation. As was her trademark, Gertrude Trevelyan takes us deeper into the mind of her subject than almost any novelist ever attempted, creating an intense and absorbing reading experience.

oh my. honestly, oh my.
somehow… i get it.
i could see myself in millicent, in ways i’ve never seen explained and worded quite like this. was blown away the entire time i read this that it was originally published in 1934. what remarkable talent, and outlooks on human life. I GET IT.
this book was gutting. and real.

A not so new experiment, I can think of other authors who have also done stream of consciousness type novels. This type of writing can be taxing to the 'easy read' reader, I'd say that really only people still crying actual tears about the library at Alexandria will eat this for breakfast but it's not like the average reader won't get through it or understand it.

This type of novel is definitely for those curious to know the mind of another person, how the mind and the thinking process of another works. There's no action, no mystery, it's a stroll down a path we all walk if we think.

I'm glad Boilerplate press gave this another shot, but I fear it will only be enjoyable to that niche readership who enjoyed Joyce and others.

I read the foreword and afterword as well and my concern is that it makes the book more literary and the average reader is going to think it's too intellectual. It's not, the blessing of stream of consciousness is that it's in everyone's wheelhouse, from the rocket scientist to me and each of us will interpret the book differently.

I'd say if you enjoyed As It Was In The Beginning, you'll also enjoy The Room and The Last List Of Miss Judith Kratt, just off the top of my head, as well as James Joyce. I know I'm forgetting a few good ones, my apologies.

I rate this three stars, thanks to Netgalley for the copy and the opportunity to read it.

First published in 1934 and neglected for the last ninety years, As It Was in the Beginning is a short novel depicting the confused memories of an elderly woman dying in a nursing home after suffering what seems to be a stroke. Told entirely in stream-of-consciousness, the novel presents us with Lady Millicent’s disjointed thoughts as they track backwards through her life.

Initially she is fixated on her time as a well-to-do widow in her forties and her intense affair with a younger man who emerges as little more than a gold-digger. Later she focuses on her youthful marriage to Sir Harold, the squire of the small community in which she has grown up, who is both dependable and suffocating. Finally, she recalls episodes from her childhood as the daughter of a country doctor, regressing all the way back to infancy.

Millicent is not a particularly likeable character. She is not at ease with herself, or with the role expected of a woman of her class and time, or even with her own body. She suffers from a sort of generalised alienation which makes her feel at odds with much of the world. However, she never seems to have discovered, or even sought out, an alternative way of being. Instead, she has allowed herself to be borne along by the tide of events, always experiencing intense anxiety about whatever persona she finds herself adopting.

This is an important re-publication. Trevelyan’s mastery of stream-of-consciousness narrative surely merits her recognition as a significant modernist writer. Perhaps even more significant, however, is the spotlight she turns on issues of identity and gender. Lady Millicent is no radical; she pursues no cause; but she suffers, and sharing her suffering is like watching a moth battering itself against a lamp. The inside of her head is not a comfortable place in which to be but there is too much within it that is recognisable and relevant for the contemporary reader to ignore.

The author, Gertrude Trevelyan, doesn't shy away from the tough stuff. Even though I didn't always like Millicent, her struggles felt honest and true. From being left by a younger lover to feeling trapped in her marriage, Millicent's journey is a hard one to read. Sometimes I wanted to skip ahead because it was so heavy. Millicent's fight to communicate after her stroke is a powerful picture of how we all want to connect with others. Gertrude's narrative dives deep into the complexities of human emotions with a raw honesty that demands attention. While I couldn't say I liked Millicent or her thoughts, her vulnerabilities are laid bare for all to see. Her experiences, from the searing pain of abandonment by a younger lover to the suffocating weight of dependency in her marriage, echo the universal struggle for self-discovery and acceptance.