
Darkness
& Day
1951
Why had Edmund and Bridget Gaunt and their daughters been away from home? Because some decades earlier Edmund has fathered an illegitimate daughter.
BRIEF PLOT SUMMARY
In a stately late-Victorian country manor house, the aging Sir Ransom Chace presides over his two adult daughters - the cynical, self-serving Anne and the kinder Emma - while debating mortality, morality, and his own legacy with his closest friend. When his long-absent second son Edmund Gaunt returns home after years of self-imposed exile with his wife Bridget and their two young daughters, the family reunion carries an undercurrent of dread.
Edmund confesses a horrifying secret: years earlier he fathered an illegitimate child. He has now become convinced that Bridget - the orphan he married - is that very child. This horrifying belief turned their marriage into unwitting incest and made their two little girls both his daughters and his granddaughters. Meanwhile, the new governess Mildred Hallam arrives. Sir Ransom, nearing death, writes a letter that finally clears the confusion: there were two Miss Hallams (estranged cousins), and the two adopted girls were different. Bridget is not Edmund’s daughter after all.
Relief is short-lived. After Sir Ransom’s death, his will is read, and a hidden packet of photographs and a letter reveal the final devastating truth: Bridget is Sir Ransom’s own illegitimate daughter. The cottage girl in the old photographs is none other than the family cook, Mrs. Spruce, Bridget’s biological mother and Sir Ransom’s former lover.
The families absorb the revelations in their usual manner - with polite silence, burning evidence, and careful avoidance of open scandal. Mrs. Spruce and Selina share one fleeting, knowing glance but say nothing. Mildred quietly leaves to live independently, while the younger generation is left to navigate the poisonous legacy of secrets, incestuous fears, and the darkness that has long shadowed their days.
CRITICAL ACCLAIM
"There is no book of Miss Compton-Burnett's that has not its violent shock, as trim and tidy as a handgrenade and as destructive potentially."
​​
Pamela Hansford Johnson
