Sue Townsend had a great idea. Invent a woman who spends a year in bed! Eva Beaver is not ill, physically or mentally. She decides to go to bed to think.
With your main character in bed, you need an array of supporting characters to give some interest. I can imagine Townsend plotting these characters thinking they would be dynamite. Dr Brian Beaver (great name!), a dull astronomer who's constantly confused for an astrologer. His mistress, Titania (great name!). The weary and working class mother and mother-in-law, Ruby and Yvonne. The Beavers' autistic twin children. Poppy, the nymphomaniac who pretends to befriend the twins at university and wreaks havoc in the lives of hapless men. And finally Alexander, the dread locked would-be artist who falls in love with Eva. He and a facially scarred veteran from the war, Stuart, are the two token "nice" men, counter balancing Brian Junior and Senior.
The problem is that after a promising start, full of current social references and pithy pathos, Townsend runs into the problem of what to do with a bedridden woman.
There are a couple of references to Cold Comfort Farm and I believe Townsend thought she was creating something in this genre. But Eva Beaver is no Flora Poste. She languishes in bed, demanding food, and becomes an unlikely seer and guide with queues of distressed people wanting to see her.
So many of the characters are deeply unpleasant. Nothing new there: literature is full of characters like this. But there's nothing compelling about Beaver and his son. Even learning that Poppy had had a tragic past didn't make me feel sympathy for her. I just turned the pages when she appeared.
Townsend attempts to shock with careless and frequent mentions in schoolgirl language of the professor's affair with Titania, who turns up at night to sleep with him in his shed.
As for Eva, she is supposed to be in bed thinking, but what does she think about? We gain very little insight into what has driven her to her bed. She doesn't seem particularly bothered about her husband's affair. As we get to the closing pages, Townsend has the Herculean challenge of raising Eva from her bed and giving us insight into what sent her there and why it's now time to get up. But I was still none the wiser. There was a passing reference to the sort of tragedy and misfortune that every woman has to deal with at some point in her life. Is Townsend attempting to use Eva as an allegory for all womankind: put upon, heroic, passive? I suspect she was trying to find a higher purpose for Eva but to me it didn't work. Quite a few good chuckles though.