The Marriage Bureau: The True Story of How Two Matchmakers Arranged Love in Wartime London

Penrose Halson's The Marriage Bureau is essentially a history of the early years of the marriage agency that she later owned. That summary does little justice to the book itself, which, while obscure, is a fascinating read for anyone with an interest in World War II London.

Let's begin at the beginning: In the late 30s, Heather Jenner and Mary Oliver decided to open a marriage bureau. The decision was remarkable for so many reasons: marriage agencies simply did not exist (the bureaucrats only wished they'd been able to site a regulation against such a business in the early days!). Equally, it was so unbecoming for a young woman, especially from the upper classes, to strike out on her own this way that Mary Oliver is but a pseudonym, so afraid was Audrey Mary Parsons that her parents would learn of her work.

The clients ranged from MPs and aristocrats to shop girls, mariners, and dock workers - with a heavy does of active duty military (men and women) thrown in. Given the number of foreigners passing through London during the war, there were also no shortages of foreigners. (Notably, the original idea for the marriage bureau originated with Mary's Uncle George who suggested she try to find the many young men scattered across the Empire a wife during their rare leaves home.)

Using a system they devised, and relying heavily on the class strictures of the times, they consistently matched and married their clients. The Marriage Bureau is the story of these clients - some bordering on the hilarious and some downright tragic (there was a war on!) - but it's also the history of civilian life in a city under siege. For it's against the backdrop of air raids and ration coupons that Heather and Mary, later assisted by a broader cast of characters, do their work.

My favorite part of the book was actually the appendix, which includes the requirements of the clients, as written by themselves on their registration forms. Some were specific, as the woman who wished a man who was "Educated. Good looking. Self-assured. Mechanically minded. Handy around the house. Must have wavy hair." Another stated that any perspective husband must have a February or May birthday. The most touching are those who hope fervently to stymie the pain of war: "My boy was killed during the war. If I can find through you someone like or as near as possible to what he was I should be very grateful." The men's requirements, too, were often tinged with fear and loss and war, from the men who have several years left in the service, to the many who has lost both of his hands but is keen for any prospective wife to know that he can manage everything for himself. It is these succinct little statements that ooze zeitgeist and human nature; a collection of these by itself would be worthy reading; the rest is all icing on top.

As far as a recommendation, if you can't get enough of World War II history, particularly the more obscure bits, The Marriage Bureau will absolutely suit. For the reader who's less sold on the topic, it's probably closer to three-and-a-half stars than five.