Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh

In the years following the First World War a new generation emerges, wistful and vulnerable beneath the glitter. The Bright Young Things of twenties Mayfair, with their paradoxical mix of innocence and sophistication, exercise their inventive minds and vile bodies in every kind of capricious escapade. In a quest for treasure, a favourite party occupation, a vivid assortment of characters hunt fast and furiously for ever greater sensations and the fulfilment of unconscious desires.

Vile Bodies is told from the perspective of Adam Fenwick-Symes, an aspiring novelist who has an on-off engagement with Nina Blount. Together, they socialise in the exclusive circles of young journalists in London a decade after the end of the First World War.

This is a light-hearted novel and it parodies the social interactions amongst the Bright Young Things of the 1920s. Many of the characters have comical names and the writing style is very aloof. The storyline contrasts the outward euphoria of that generation in its prime against Adam’s nagging worry about supporting himself and Nina financially. Vile Bodies was apparently the first novel in which a significant part of the dialogue takes place over the telephone – mostly passages of one-line exchanges between Adam and Nina in a Hemingway-esque style – showing that the novel was absolutely up to speed with modern life. In fact, Evelyn Waugh was himself amongst the notable Bright Young Things.

I like the zeitgeist of the 1920s. The generation which came of age in that decade spent their earliest years in the grip of the First World War, followed by a deadly pandemic. With such an anxious start to their lives, it is no wonder that they wanted to be carefree and present in their young adult lives. The Bright Young things are the kind of people that ordinary folk admire from a distance – they were wealthy, popular and glamorous (albeit this was largely due to fortunes of birth rather than social mobility or meritocratic values). The modern equivalent of the Bright Young Things is probably the kinds of people who appear in the Tatler or perhaps on a slow news day the Daily Mail minor celebrity column.

One aspect of the 1920s (and later decades) by which I am perpetually amazed is the speed at which people got engaged. Engagement is treated in novels of this era as a relatively trivial decision and the criteria for a suitable husband were much more pragmatic than today’s criteria: can he provide financially for his wife to live in the style to which she is accustomed? Adam’s fluctuating financial prospects are the main reason why his engagement to Nina is repeatedly called off, then back on again. However, if literary depictions of engagements at that time are to be believed, it was apparently fairly normal to date multiple people at once and for relationships only to become serious once one was engaged. I admire that spontaneity in theory but I would probably be an anxious wreck if I tried to live by those principles.

More relatable, in my view, are Adam’s financial concerns. The Bright Young Things live an extravagant lifestyle and Adam feels obliged to keep up with this. He resorts to gambling and relies on flimsy promises of payment in the future, which form a main storyline in the book.

Vile Bodies contrasts the Bright Young Things’ outward merriment with an undercurrent of social anxiety. Although this contrast may have been exacerbated by the aftermath of the First World War, today’s post-pandemic world is perhaps not so dissimilar. Maybe we will see a similar generation of Bright Young Things coming of age in the later part of this decade, with a similar wealth of contemporary literature to follow.