By Teresa Hyde Phillips, ©1936
Celia Landis looked across the dingy table at Tony Starr, whose fine surgeon’s hands were toying nervously with a coffee cup. “No, Tony,” she said slowly, “I’m not ready to be married yet. I … I haven’t really lived.” And Tony, who knew she was the best nurse St. Martha’s had ever had, smiled into her impetuous young eyes, and was silent, thinking, “You’ll be back soon enough!” So Celia tried life—a life not bounded by nurse’s rules or constant sacrifice, and with the help of suave Carlie Daklin she became the best photographer’s model in New York. But what of happiness? Celia had to choose between Carlie—her kind “angel” in this new and giddy world and Tony—the symbol of a life she had vowed to abandon. Which would it be?
GRADE: A-
BEST QUOTES:
“The only thing wrong with you is astigmatism.”
“I have had dozens of nurses it seems to me in these last weeks and I had begun to believe that your profession begets none but worthy women who look like nothing but disasters on land and sea.”
“Women were such egotists, they thought that what they said and did and what happened to them mattered so much.”
“I’m a Harvard man. I wouldn’t get myself seriously shot outside a lady’s boudoir.”
“One’s mind said, ‘One must not think, nor remember, nor hope.’ Champagne said, ‘Leave that all to me.’”
“Character is a better bet than glamour any day.”
“Women have some silly romantic idea about surgeons. Completely uncalled for. They have a job, like the rest of us.”
“Men! They let you down. For chivalry, for kindness, you went to women.”
REVIEW:
Celia Landis is “twenty-one, beautiful and free!” She’s just
graduated from nursing school, and Dr. Anthony Starr, right there on the first
page, is “offering her the prisonhouse of marriage, proffering the ball and
chain.” Good girl, she turns him down flat. “I don’t believe in marriage,” she
says. “I don’t want to be tied down. I want to see things, to do things, to
find out for myself. I want to be on my own.” The author, interestingly,
doesn’t seem to be on the side of her heroine, as Dr. Starr, who “knew that
only in bonds is there freedom,” is smiling condescendingly at Celia.
It seems that Celia thinks she has made a mistake by becoming a nurse. She was forced into it when both her parents died her freshman year in college and there was no money to pay for her education. Now she has no other option but to work to support herself, though she is not interested in dedicating her life, “as that of his wife must be, to illness” and is hoping to find another career option. “I’m not tough,” she tells him. “I want the beauty and the fun of life.” Of course, she is nonetheless “an exceptionally good nurse,” as VNRN heroines, reluctant though they may be, usually are.
She loses her first two cases because men in the house insist on forcing themselves on her, and the head of the nursing registry of course blames Celia for this. “If there was anything to be deplored in a nurse, it was beauty. Beauty. Detestable quality, leading only to trouble,” the woman thinks. In the depths of despair that she will never get another nursing job, Celia runs into Tony and his boss, Dr. Alderdice, and the pair take her to lunch. Afterward, as Celia tries to tell Tony about her fears, he dutifully proposes again, though Celia thinks he does not mean it and decides she’s not sure who he really is. “She felt that she no longer had any hold on him. None whatsoever.”
Then Carleton Daklin, the husband of one of her patients who had fired her, calls her up and offers her a modeling job. He is the head of an advertising agency and is looking for a nurse to pose in a series of ten ads for the National Hygiene Council, and the pay is $1,000—an enormous sum in the wake of the Great Depression, when a furnished two-bedroom apartment on East 43rd Street costs $120 a month. She takes the job, and when Tony calls her to say he’s taking a trip to the West Indies to do germ research, she tells him of her triumph. He is happy for her, but less so when he hangs up the phone, though he berates himself for his idiocy. “Had he for a minute thought she would say to him: ‘Tony, my darling, nothing that happens to me is of the slightest interest, there’s only you and your life.’” Now he is the one thinking he has lost Celia, but “he knew Celia, he thought, better than she knew herself.”
Then United Models calls, and soon the phone is ringing off the hook. Eventually Tony comes home and phones her, and he’s dismayed with her new life. “What had this girl thrown over? A real job, the greatest thing in the world—medicine,” he thinks, again frustrated that she did not ask him how his trip had gone. She goes out to dinner with Tony and enjoys his companionship, believes “there was no one like him, no one who could touch him in any way.” But he again sneers at her new profession with “amused malice” and tells her she should not have given up nursing so soon. “As a nurse, Celia Landis was a bust on her first two tries and only because she let herself think of herself as a bust,” he says. She is torn between her desire to live her own life and her attraction for him, but chooses the former, though she’s not certain for how long: “When she came to him she must come with everything—heart and mind and with every intent.”
When Tony walks her home, Carleton Daklin is waiting for her in her apartment—the first time Celia has seen him since he got her the modeling job—but Tony does not believe it and stomps out, and when Celia calls him to explain, he is cold. So she starts going places with Carleton, becoming the It Girl of Manhattan. “The emptiness Tony left was teaching her things. It was enlightening.” But one late-night party goes awry and a man is stabbed. Celia is the only one who can keep a cool head, not surprisingly, but the scandal lands her in the tabloids with a not-so-gentle assist from a couple other women in Celia’s circle who do not have her heart of gold—just as the sordid affair has made her realize she wants out of the glittering birdcage, the same day an offer to become chief nurse of the OR at the hospital where she trained arrives, which is withdrawn the next day. Tony runs to her house when he hears the news, but Celia, wounded to the core, can only snarl, “To tell me exactly what to do—is that your idea of friendship?” It’s more than a little true, but Tony says good bye and leaves, Celia thinks for good.
There are the usual crises before Celia is brought back to
her man and nursing career, and if the ending wasn’t quite the complete
perfection I wanted it to be, this is still a really lovely book. The writing
in this book is sparkling: “Behold Miss Celia Landis, R.N., diploma summa cum
laude, drilling through the traffic of Manhattan in a taxi which looked like
any other taxi but which, if the world had eyes, was a jumping-off place from
which one flung oneself into the fun of accomplishment.” It’s a thoughtful book
full of philosophy about life and what is important, but not overly
intellectual. It’s not hard to feel what the characters are going through, and how Celia has grown over the course of the book. If for most of this book
she is not working as a nurse, she is still at heart a nurse throughout. My
only real beef is that the ending does not clearly give Celia the strength she
has earned from her experiences, and it’s not quite certain how she is going to
live up to her new character. But that aside, this is a thoroughly delicious
book, and if you can track down a copy for yourself, the effort will be worth
it.