'Of course, one has to write, but what can one say?' Ursula Wyndham's mother set up this despairing wail whenever she read in the Times that a friend had given birth. To a girl. Her contempt for female children extended - with knobs on - to her daughter, and she was backed up by a husband who acknowledged his least loved offspring only by explosions of distaste. 'Can nothing be done about that girl's spots?' he would grumble in front of the offending child. Or, when friends were assembled: 'The tragedy about Ursula is that she is grotesquely tall.'

LRB 6 July 1989 | PDF Download