“Miss Benson’s Beetle” is the intriguing title of an extraordinary new book, one in which I was engrossed over much of the holiday. Perhaps it’s because my youngest lives on Australia’s East Coast, almost a straight line away from the novel’s setting in 1950 New Caledonia, which I urge you to seek out in an atlas or better yet on Google Earth.
Margery Benson owes her fascination with beetles to her late father; it was he who mentioned the quasi-imaginary existence of the golden beetle on the island of New Caledonia. After her father’s untimely and tragic death (Mum had died in childbirth), Margery joins forces with several aunts in London. A 10 year long unrequited love for an entomology mentor who furthers her knowledge leads her to a dull and ultimately disastrous career as a teacher of the home arts, and when she intercepts a derogatory note, she breaks loose. With a pilfered pair of boots, the proper equipment and clothing, and a most unsuitable companion, she heads off to the other side of the earth, discovering along the way not only her susceptibility to seasickness but just how clever and resourceful her companion proves to be.
The “bottle blond” Miss Enid Pretty and “Marge” set up housekeeping in Poum at the northern end of the island, where they can finally spy the mountain shaped like a wisdom tooth, in whose rainforest the white orchids will provide sustenance for the elusive beetle. Their cottage, the aptly named “Last Place,” perches precariously at the end of the road.
Mind you, they have arrived with stolen supplies in a stolen Jeep, thanks to Enid, which leaves Marge apprehensive of everything, including the hungry native boys. But their mission rises up the mountainside before them, and they set out to hack their way up-slope through the thoroughly bug-infested jungle.
It’s not until this large, non-swimming explorer trips and falls into a clear mountain pool that Marge realizes her first true moment of peace and joy as a voice inside her whispers, ”Oh, Margery Benson, what was this beautiful crazy thing that you just did?”
The rest of the book is for you to enjoy. The hilarity of attempting a string hammock, the bliss of discovering … well, I’ll leave it to you. One reviewer compared Enid and Margery to Thelma and Louise, and there is some truth in that. Settle in and enjoy this story of friendship and loyalty and sea voyage, with your own feet happily and firmly planted on the ground.