The Knox children, “dipped in ink” from an early age, were supposed to be writers, since in their family “everyone was publishing, or about to publish, something.” They were certainly supposed to be outstandingly intelligent, to join in the witty conversation at mealtimes, and to “perform” as clever Knoxes, which was often a strain. They were given the back of their father’s old galley proofs to write on, and like the previous generation of Knoxes, they had their family magazine, produced on a “John Bull toy printing set,” though why it was called IF, or Howl Ye Bloodhounds, Penelope could never remember. Back numbers of Punch were part of the furniture. She loved the illustrations as much as the writing: “As a small girl I used to sit on rainy afternoons in the corner of the dining room, where the old bound volumes of Punch were kept, turning the pages and entertaining, without the need to understand, the quite different worlds of Keene and Du Maurier.” Charles Keene did umbrellas, bony cab-horses, railway porters, drunks and stout wives; George Du Maurier did duchesses, drawing rooms, concert halls and drooping aristocrats.
A long one I know. But it has such a rich description of the lives of the Knox children. Who they were expected to be and become.
People of ideas. Opinions. Writers. People of words and letters.
A family magazine sounds like a Kevin Kelly idea. A family magazine would also be a cool homeschooling project.
Lee, Hermione. Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life. United States, Alfred A. Knopf, 2014. pg 32
Floodlights and Goalposts 