The Marriage Bed

Saville's debut novel about moneyed English domesticity threatened and subsequently rejuvenated begins with shit. Except that ""dog poohs"" is the term protagonist Laura Fenton prefers for the objects her husband, Geoffrey, insists on picking up from the garden on the grounds of Lownden House, Geoffrey's ancestral estate, where they live. The beloved garden happily distracts Laura from all that's not perfect in her life: her two grown daughters loathe each other, and Geoffrey, who seems to love golf more than Laura, is irritated with her disinterest in sex. Financial problems force the pair to confront their emotional issues when Geoffrey's agricultural machine business fails and his son-in-law loses his remaining money through speculation. Laura learns all this after the fact and consequently feels betrayed enough to seek temporary solace in the bed of a former lover. Geoffrey's chief worry is losing the house and grounds, which mean more to him than the business. Veteran gardening writer Saville's prose is quite readable, and she incorporates lovely descriptions of gardens. She has the pieces in place for a solid domestic melodrama, but she makes Geoffrey such a weakling that the conclusion-in which all the horticultural themes of husbandry and transplantation find expression in plot-has more to do with the truths of the genre than with those of character. (Mar.)