The Uncommon Reader

“Novels seldom came as well-connected as this and the Queen felt correspondingly reassured, so it was with some confidence that she gave the book to Mr. Hutchings to be stamped.”

As a reader who does not really enjoy (or know how to enjoy) reading, the Queen has difficulty when she is tasked with choosing a book at the traveling library. She is only able to choose a book that is “well-connected,” so her entry into reading literature is through the same framework with which she has lived her life thus far. Eventually, this view shifts completely, reflecting both a change in the Queen’s reading habits as well as a change in her perspective.

“The Queen, though, might have been less pleased had she known that Norman was unaffected by her because she seemed to him so ancient, her royalty obliterated by her seniority.”

An underlying thread of the plot depicts how others view the Queen, with particular concern regarding her age. Her “seniority” causes her to be misjudged by many of the staff in the palace. This is an important commentary on the ways that modern society perceives and treats the elderly.

“What she was finding also was how one book led to another, doors kept opening wherever she turned and the days weren’t long enough for the reading she wanted to do.”

The Queen continues reflecting and growing through her increased reading. As she allows one book to lead “to another,” the Queen begins encountering literature that she might never have chosen for herself. Bennett illuminates the exciting ways that reading can support a person to discover previously unknown learning.

“She was a genuine democrat, perhaps the only one in the country.”

The Queen is so removed from participating in the mundanity of regular social interaction that she does not perceive the same differences between people as the average citizen. As a result of this, she is truly able to judge people fairly and to operate with democracy at the center of her actions.

“Herself part of the panoply of the world, why now was she intrigued by books, which, whatever else they might be, were just a reflection of the world or a version of it? Books? She had seen the real thing.”

A central tension of the Queen’s newfound interest in reading is that she has already experienced so much of the world and has had contact with many of the authors considered famous. She struggles with what this might mean and what purpose reading might have for her, though it takes many books before she is able to discern the true lesson.

“To someone with the background of the Queen, though, pleasure had always taken second place to duty. If she could feel she had a duty to read then she could set about it with a clear conscience, with the pleasure, if pleasure there was, incidental.”

The Queen begins to wrestle with her conflict between reading and her duties. Although reading eventually takes precedence, the Queen neglects her duties as a result. Her conscience is only able to resolve this conflict when she finally determines that she might write something herself that could have a positive benefit for the world, transforming what is a pleasure into something performed for duty.

“If she were a novelist, she thought, that might be worth writing down.”

Slowly, the Queen begins to think about the idea of writing things down rather than just experiencing them in books. At first, as in this moment, the Queen does not see herself as “a novelist,” and so writes nothing down. Yet as she gains confidence in her observations and ideas, the Queen begins to take notes and eventually chooses to write something of greater length.

“‘I think of literature,’ she wrote, ‘as a vast country to the far borders of which I am journeying but will never reach. And I have started too late. I will never catch up.’”

Many of the ways in which the Queen is able to understand her relationship to literature are couched in analogies with the things she has experienced thus far in her life. Since she travels quite frequently, it is natural that she compares literature to “a vast country” that she cannot fully explore.

“Authors, she soon decided, were probably best met with in the pages of their novels, and as much creatures of the reader’s imagination as the characters in their books.”

After an awkward encounter with a gathering of many of her favorite authors, the Queen begins reflecting more deeply on the role of an author. Her observation in this moment provides an analysis that can be applied to the novella itself: Authors are “in the pages of their novels” and are part of the ways that a reader imagines the text.

“It was her life she was calling upon, the new beginning hers.”

The Queen begins to move away from her duties and towards a vision of making decisions about her own life. She becomes less apologetic about her reading and more determined to pursue her own goals, even if they do not fit with political decorum.

“There were times when she wished she had never opened a book and entered other lives. It had spoiled her. Or spoiled her for this, anyway.”

As the Queen struggles with how literature has changed her, she notes that entering the world of literature and into “other lives” makes it more difficult for her to act as a monarch. By broadening her perspective, the Queen has made it so that it is more difficult to act impartially and properly. This kind of being “spoiled” is not something the Queen is accustomed to.

“People died, people left and (more and more) people got into the papers. For her they were all departures of one sort or another. They left but she went on.”

Although the Queen is upset about Norman’s sudden and mysterious departure, she must come to terms with the fact that she has encountered this feeling before. As the monarch, the Queen must go “on” even when other people die or leave. This puts enormous pressure on her to continue her life even when the people around her seem like a constantly changing cast of characters.

“‘This is not a lesson I have ever been in a position to learn.’”

The Queen reflects on what she has not been able to experience or understand as a result of being the queen of a country. She is unable to access certain ideas and conflicts in the literature she reads because she has never been in the “position” to do so.

“Feminism, too, got short shrift, at least to begin with and for the same reason, the separations of gender like the differences of class as nothing compared with the gulf that separated the Queen from the rest of humanity.”

The Queen has difficulty understanding social issues that she has not experienced, like feminism. This is an important undercurrent of the novella: The Queen is so separate “from the rest of humanity” that her personality and perspective are warped compared to those of her subjects. The “gulf” that separates the Queen causes her to frequently struggle with relating to other people or situations, though reading helps to bridge this gap.

“Instead she determined to restrict her confidences to her notebooks, where they could do no harm.”

As the Queen develops her writing practice more diligently in the second half of the novella, she begins noting when it is and is not appropriate to share her opinions publicly. At first, her writing practice takes the form of notetaking so that she can record her “confidences” somewhere private and beyond reproach.

“Poor man. And he had fought at Tobruk. She must write it down.”

The Queen’s writing practice begins to evolve as she finds more pleasure in recording her ideas and observations. In this moment, the Queen feels an urgency about capturing a specific angle of a person’s character, believing that she “must write it down.” This is the first moment that the Queen begins to truly emerge as a potential author of her own narrative.

“But perhaps he was a message in his own person, a portent of the unpalatable future.”

Sir Claude, an elderly former royal servant, leaves quite an impression on the Queen. She is struck by the ways that his age is revealed in his appearance and behavior, wondering about her own possible “unpalatable future.” Perceptions of the elderly are frequently discussed in the novella, though the Queen rarely thinks of herself as old.

“‘I have no voice.’”

The Queen repeats this phrase twice as she begins thinking about writing her own story. Although she has read countless novels, she struggles to discover her own “voice” on the page. This moment foreshadows her coming realization of what she should try to write and her subsequent decision to abdicate the throne.

“And it occurred to her (as next day she wrote down) that reading was, among other things, a muscle and one that she had seemingly developed.”

At the start of the novella, the Queen finds it enormously difficult to reading a book to completion, as she rarely has done so. Her realization that reading is like “a muscle” reveals her profound growth as a character and how fully she has been able to shift her perspective on reading.

“In the darkness it came to the Queen that, dead, she would exist only in the memories of people. She who had never been subject to anyone would now be on a par with everybody else. Reading could not change that—though writing might.”

One of the Queen’s main reasons for deciding to write her own narrative is her burgeoning belief that her experiences are worth sharing with a wider audience. In the early sections of the text, the Queen is relatively unconcerned with how people might remember her; now, she feels determined to write in order to keep herself “in the memories of people.” 

“Once she had been a self-assured single-minded woman knowing where her duty lay and intent on doing it for as long as she was able. Now all too often she was in two minds. Reading was not doing, that had always been the trouble. And old though she was, she was still a doer.”

As the Queen develops her plan to abdicate the throne, she resolves her earlier conflict between her duties and her desire to explore literature. She is able to see that while reading is pleasurable, it is through writing, an actionable task, that she can make herself feel successful and fulfilled.

“A reader was next door to being a spectator, whereas when she was writing she was doing, and doing was her duty.”

The Queen only comes to the idea of being a writer late in the novella, after she has spent a significant amount of time reading. Although she has previously expressed passion for reading, she begins feeling that it is too much of a spectating activity and decides that writing might fulfill her “duty” more fully.

“‘One has given one’s white-gloved hand to hands that were steeped in blood and conversed politely with men who have personally slaughtered children. One has waded through excrement and gore; to be Queen, I have often thought, the one essential item of equipment a pair of thigh-length boots.’”

The Queen gives a final, impassioned speech to all her former and current royal advisors, expressing her feelings about the unethical actions she has been forced to take as the monarch. Her description of the “thigh-length boots” reflects the amount of perseverance she feels that she has had to meet with the kinds of people who slaughter “children.”