Review: The Three Sisters, by May Sinclair

Pages: 388

Original date of publication: 1914

My edition: 1982 (Dial Press)

Why I decided to read: it’s on the list of Virago Modern Classics

How I acquired my copy: Ebay seller, July 2010

After a reading slump during Virago Reading Week, I was actually thrilled to come across a book that redeemed things for me! The Three Sisters is a novel that is loosely based upon the lives of the Bronte sisters, though the similarities are superficial. Alice, Gwenda, and Mary are the daughters of the Vicar of Garthdale, spinsters living lonely, bored lives on the moors. All of that changes, however, when a young, attractive doctor arrives in the village…

Originally published in 1914, this book is a strange hybrid of Edwardian values and Victorian conventionality. The time period in which this book is set is indeterminate (definitely not as early as the Brontes, though, since a brief mention is made of a car later in the story). The novel is loosely based on the lives of the Bronte sisters, though of course there are many deviations to it. However, I can easily see Emily Bronte’s personality in Gwenda, Charlotte in Mary, and Anne in Ally.

The story deals heavily with repression, personified in the character of Mr. Cartaret, the girls’ unforgiving and intractable father. The girls’ various (realized and unrealized) passions for Steven Rowcliffe are what drive the plot of this novel—leading Gwenda to run away from Garthdale so that her sister Mary may marry Rowcliffe and Ally to marry a local yeoman. All three women exude passion, but because of circumstances, it’s never allowed to fully come out. Another theme that this book deals with is that of self-denial, especially in the case of Gwenda. Psychologically, it’s interesting to watch how Mary’s marriage has an effect on all her sisters. Also, the book deals to a certain extent with obsession, personified in the character of Steven Rowcliffe. Living in a small village with very few marriage prospects, the arrival of a young, handsome, eligible doctor of course would of course lead the three Cartaret sisters to obsess over him—especially since all three women are of a passionate nature. It’s a very powerful novel, but so very understated in its own way.

The Sunday Salon: Persephone Reading Weekend

Persephone Reading Weekend is winding down (sadly)! I had a great time this weekend, reading A Very Great Profession and now Few Eggs and No Oranges, which is a fascinating look at one average, middle-aged woman’s experience living in London during WWII. It’s a chunkster, but I’ve been in the mood for those recently. I’ve also been really into nonfiction, so this fits the bill quite nicely.

After Few Eggs and No Oranges, I’ll have read 29 Persephones, with three more I own that I haven’t yet read: There Were No Windows, The Mystery of Mrs. Blencarrow (several people have read and reviewed this this weekend, which makes me eager to get to it myself), and Alas Poor Lady.

I’ve also enjoyed reading the blogs of other Persephone-philes, adding exponentially to my Google Reader! I’ve found other bloggers’ comments on the books they’ve been reading to be very insightful.

Also this weekend I’ve been reading back issues of the Persephone Fortnightly letter, which can be found on the Persephone website. Especially interesting to me was Nicola Beauman’s January 30^th letter in which she describes the average day at the shop. It turns out that about 80% of the business is done through mail orders, and that they only get about 20-30 customers in the shop on the average day (surprising to me considering that when I was there in September 2009, the shop was bustling with people on the day I was there).

On to the giveaway of The Mystery of Mrs. Blencarrow: I’ve picked a winner, who is:

Bookmarksandteacups

Congratulations!

How was your reading experience this weekend? If you participated, what did you enjoy most or least?

Persephone Reading Weekend Update

I’m very excited to be participating in Persephone Reading Weekend! Yesterday I posted a review of Every Eye, which I actually read about a week ago but was waiting to post my review. I enjoyed it, but honestly, not as much as some of the other Persephones I’ve read. By the way, here’s a list of Persephones I’ve read and reviewed in the past.

I’m currently reading Nicola Beauman’s A Very Great Profession, which in obvious ways complements the novels that Persephone and Virago have reprinted. I’m really enjoyed her insightful comments on women writers and their novels in the interwar years, especially since I’ve read many of the books that Beauman mentions. Unfortunately, however, the “to be read” list is growing exponentially! This is definitely a good book for Persephone and Virago aficionados to read.

As far as the giveaway for The Mystery of Mrs. Blencarrow goes, I’ll pick a winner tomorrow in my roundup of the weekend.

If you’re participating, what are you reading? What are you enjoying most about the weekend?

Review: Every Eye, by Isobel English

Pages: 119

Original date of publication: 1956

My edition: 2007 (Persephone)

Why I decided to read: browsing the Persephone catalogue

How I acquired my copy: Persephone subscription, June 2010

As I was browsing my TBR shelves for something to take with me on a business trip (traveling theme and all of that), my eye (no pun intended) was drawn to Every Eye, a slim novella about a woman who marries a much younger man and takes a holiday to Ibiza.

The novel isn’t so much about the holiday as it is about the journey, and it’s a novel that is “based on the premise that life is lived forwards but understood backwards” (from the preface written by Isobel English’s husband, Neville Braybrooke). There are many flashbacks to Hatty’s affair with a much older man, and her relationship with her step-aunt that illuminate certain things about Hatty. There’s not much action per se in this book, but there are some absolutely gorgeous descriptions of the scenery as Hatty and Stephen travel along that make me want to book a flight to Ibiza right now!

I am generally not a novella reader; I prefer thick, juicy novels with lots of plot and character development. But this book, for all its shortness, packs a lot into it. You can see Hatty’s development as a person quite clearly, from her unsuitable liaison with an older man to her wiser marriage to Stephen. The novel illustrates to perfection the modern saying that hindsight is 20/20. The tone of the book is very cold, and I thought going into it that I would hate the narrator for being so detached; but the juxtaposition between Hatty’s coldness and the warmth of Ibiza really works for this story.

This is Persephone no. 18. Endpaper above.

Review: The Tudor Secret, by CW Gortner

Pages: 327

Original date of publication:

My edition: 2011 (St. Martin’s)

Why I decided to read: Heard about this through Amazon.com

How I acquired my copy: Amazon Vine, December 2010

Originally published as The Secret Lion, The Tudor Secret is the first in what will be a series featuring Brendan Prescott, an orphan foundling who was raised in the household of the Dudley family. In 1553, King Edward is on his deathbed, and William Cecil gives a secret mission Brendan. Soon he finds himself working as a double agent, as he attempts to discover the secret of his own birth.

There ‘s a lot to like in this novel, mainly in the historical details that the author weaves into the story. He knows Tudor history like the back of his hand, and it definitely shows in this book. Because it was his first novel, however, there are some rough patches. There were a couple of plot holes that I had trouble navigating around—primarily, why would a secretive man such as Cecil entrust a seemingly nobody with this kind of secret mission? Brendan himself is a changeable character; at one point he’s amazingly perceptive, at others, he has to have basic current events (that anyone of the time period would have been aware of) explained to him. However, because this is the first book in a series, I expect that we’ll see a lot of character growth from Brendan. The other thing I didn’t quite believe was his relationship with Kate—at one moment, she’s a lady-in-waiting who happens to end up as Brendan’s sidekick; the next minute, Brendan is passionately in love with her. And Brendan’s access to the members of the royal family was too loose to be believable.

Still, as I’ve said, there’s a lot to like in this novel. I enjoyed how he managed to interweave historical facts with fiction, and I especially loved his descriptions of sixteenth-century London. I enjoyed the fictional Brendan’s interactions with the Dudley clan, too. The real “mystery” here is about Brendan’s birth, and its revelation didn’t disappoint me!

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“After three summers they had dug up all the skeletons, at least all the ones they could find, anyway they were getting rather bored with ours, as another Anglo Saxon burial ground had turned up about ten miles away, I suppose if you come to think about it, England must be stiff with old disused burial grounds, only perhaps ours was in rather a good state of preservation, if ever I get a field of my own I’m going to dig very deep and see what I can find. “

--(one sentence) from Sisters By a River, by Barbara Comyns

Review: The Lion of Mortimer, by Juliet Dymoke

Pages: 274

Original date of publication: 1979

My edition: 1979 (Ace Books)

Why I decided to read: Recommendation from Amazon

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, February 2010

The Lion of Mortimer is the third in a loosely connected series about the Plantagenet family, in which their story is told from the point of view of those closest to them. This Plantagenet is Edward II, and the story is told from the point of view of the Montacute family. The story takes Edward from his time as Prince of Wales up through his death, and the early part of the reign of Edward III.

At only 274 pages, the novel covers a lot of ground, and as such, it’s pretty sketchy on the details of Edward’s life. Therefore, I felt that the characters were not well developed—especially Isabella, who I feel was a much deeper person than she’s portrayed in the book. The author gets Edward’s character down pat, though Piers Gaveston is not as well developed as the other characters and Hugh Despenser gets very little onstage time. I don’t particularly care for Edward as a historical figure, but he comes across reasonably well in this book. On the other hand, this is a good book to read if you’re new to the story of the Plantagenet family, or even if you want to brush up on your history. There’s little in the way of fiction in this novel, but it gives a great backdrop to the politics of the times. However, there are better novels on Edward II out there.

The Sunday Salon

Another weekend come and gone! I was away for most of the week for a conference in San Diego, but I got back late on Friday night/the wee hours of Saturday morning. While I was on the plane, I finished reading a review copy of Michelle Moran’s Madame Tussaud, which the author generously sent me to review; read all of Every Eye, by Isobel English (review to be posted during Persephone Reading Weekend next weekend), and then most of The Du Mauriers, Daphne Du Maurier’s biography of her ancestors. All three are great reads. My current read is a short one: Sisters by a River, by Barbara Comyns, a novel told from a child’s point of view (complete with erratic spellings), based on the author’s life.

Speaking of Persephone Reading Weekend (Claire at Paperback Reader is hosting and has more on it), I received several books in the mail this past week that I might read: Alas, Poor Lady, by Rachel Ferguson; A Very Great Profession, by Nicola Beauman; Few Eggs and No Oranges, by Vere Hodgson; and The Mystery of Mrs. Blencarrow, by Mrs. Oliphant, one of Persephone’s newer titles. I actually received two copies of this in the mail, so I am having a giveaway of it here. It's a brand-new copy with the corresponding endpaper bookmark tucked inside! To enter, leave your name and e-mail by 5 pm EST on Friday February 25^th, and I will choose a winner on Saturday or Sunday. Good luck!

Review: The Loved and Envied, by Enid Bagnold

Pages: 280

Original date of publication: 1951

My edition: 1990 (Penguin/Virago)

Why I decided to read: Read this as a part of Virago Reading Week

How I acquired my copy: The Philly Book Trader, January 2011

Lady Diana Cooper was a famous socialite of the 1910s and the wife of Duff Cooper. She and the life she led were fictionalized in several books, including Nancy Mitford’s Don’t Tell Alfred and The Loved and Envied, which was written by Lady Diana’s longtime friend, Enid Bagnold. The Loved and Envied is the story of Lady Ruby Maclean, and deals with the theme of aging, especially the effect that aging has on a beautiful woman.

This is the third book I read for Virago Reading Week; unfortunately, it just wasn’t my week! I didn’t really care for this book, either. The author tends to hit her reader over the head—over and over—with her theme. Lady Ruby is supposed to be this fascinating woman, attractive to everyone she meets; and yet I didn’t see the appeal at all. Most of the novel takes place later in life, as she’s looking back on what happened and what could have been.

There’s a certain amount of sentimentalism here, but it’s not a particularly emotional book, which I didn’t like. The events of the novel, even the ones that are supposed to have an emotional impact, are told in a matter-of-fact way. I found that I couldn’t finish this book, especially since what could have been a fascinating subject was made very dull by the author’s writing style. It’s too bad, because there was so much promise here.

Review: Harriet Hume, by Rebecca West

Pages: 288

Original date of publication: 1929

My edition: 1980 (The Dial Press)

Why I decided to read: read this for Virago Reading Week

How I acquired my copy: The Philly Book Trader, October 2010

Man, this is a weird one, one I don’t quite know how to describe; and maybe it went over my head a bit too much! This novel tells the story of the relationship between two people: the free-spirited musician Harriet, who lives in a lopsided house in London, and her lover, Arnold, a politician The story takes their relationship/friendship through many years, at which they meet up periodically.

This was a very, very slow read for me, and one I didn’t enjoy very much. Part of my problem with this book was Rebecca West’s writing style; the only way I can describe it is bizarre! For example: “But the governess had turned her gaze on them, and had on seeing the marks of deep emotion on the faces made a long leap through the ether to some universe thickly upholstered with seductions.” (p. 106). At times, West’s prose style makes no sense, so much so that I had to go back and re-read bits and pieces here and there.

I enjoyed West’s characters; part of the charm of this odd couple is that they are so different. But Arnold is so clinical and detached that I really didn’t like him after a while; and Harriet was so flaky that I got frustrated with her. Also, the dialogue isn’t all that believable; these characters talk as though they come from a different time period, which makes this book quirky and charming, but I got tired of it quickly. I get the whole allegory bit about this novel, but it was a little too deep for me. This is the first book by Rebecca West I’ve read, and it might just be my last; I just didn’t care for this novel.

Review: Devoted Ladies, by Molly Keane

Pages: 303

Original date of publication: 1934

My edition: 1984 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: Read this for Virago Reading Week

How I acquired my copy: The Book Trader, October 2010

I’ve been really up and down with Molly Keane’s books. On one hand, I loved The Rising Tide and Taking Chances; on the other, I really didn’t like Loving Without Tears or this one. This is the story of the friendship between two women in London (and then, in true Molly Keane fashion, a decaying old estate in Ireland). Jane is a weak-willed woman who is caught between her friendship with Jessica and her budding relationship with George Playfair; Jessica is controlling and manipulative.

Neither of the two main characters is particularly likable, which made it hard for me to care what ultimately happened to them. Jane is practically a doormat and not that smart; Jessica gets herself involved in everybody else’s life, which I found irritating to the extreme. Their relationship is passionate, stormy, and I couldn’t quite see why they were friends in the first place. I also didn’t like Piggy, and not because of the lesbian element; I just didn’t care for her character all that much.

Molly Keane had a very sharp sense of humor; sarcasm practically drips off the page, especially when they characters talk about each other. Sarcasm and wit is one thing, but I thought the excess was a bit too over the top. However, I did like some of Keane’s characterizations, especially Albert the (gay) manservant. In addition, much of the story takes place through dialogue; there’s not much action, which makes this novel a bit hard to follow at times. It’s too bad I didn’t like this one, but since I have the rest of Molly Keane’s oeuvre on the TBR shelf, I’m going to soldier on.

The Sunday Salon:; bits and pieces

Another Sunday, come and gone! I always feel as though the weekend go by too quickly. Tomorrow I’m off for a business trip in San Diego, so I’m looking forward to some slightly warmer weather in my near future! It’s really funny when I pack for trips; I always pack the books first and then clothes. Speaking of which, yesterday I bought a few new items for my trip, just so that I’ll have some springtime stuff to wear. Lately I’ve really been in the mood to wear skirts and dresses.

When it comes to books and traveling, I always bring the “junk” stuff by tried and true authors, that I know I’ll enjoy. I obviously never want to slog through a book, but especially so when I’m away!

Reading this past week has been about average; I finished an ARC of CW Gortner’s The Tudor Secret and May Sinclair’s The Three Sisters (amazingly good; after a reading slump during Virago Reading Week, it was good to find another Virago that I enjoyed). I’m now reading a review copy of Madame Tussaud, by Michelle Moran, that the author sent me. I’ll probably finish it tomorrow on the plane, when I’ve got a significant amount of time to read. Other than that, I don’t think I’ll have much time for reading next week! However, I’ve packed a few choices: Barbara Pym’s An Unsuitable Attachment, The Falcons of Montabard, by Elizabeth Chadwick, The Moonspinners, by Mary Stewart, and On the Night of the Seventh Moon, by Victoria Holt. So, some good, trashy reads, but enjoyable for all that. What do you bring when you’re on vacation or traveling?

Review: The Devil's Acre, by Matthew Plampin

Pages: 408

Original date of publication: 2009

My edition: 2010 (Harper)

Why I decided to read: I LOVED the author’s first book

How I acquired my copy: The Poisoned Pen bookstore, Scottsdale, AZ, December 2010

Originally published in hardcover as The Gun-Maker’s Gift, The Devil’s Acre tells the story of Samuel Colt, and the factory he built in Pimlico in London in 1853. The story is told alternately from the point of view of his London secretary, Edward Lowry; a young factory worker named Caroline Knox; and her sister and brother-in-law, an Irish immigrant who plots to use Colt’s weapons for a political assassination. Meanwhile, Colt himself has his own agenda—especially with war in Europe looming on the horizon.

I really, really loved the author’s first book, The Street Philosopher, so of course I was excited to read this one. But what a huge disappointment for me! The author has a talent for describing the places and people (fictional and not) he writes about, but I felt that the plot was lacking in this one. The assassination plot fizzles out, and there were several other plot strands that went nowhere. The book drags a bit in the middle, too.

There’s also next to no chemistry between Edward and Caroline. The author describes Victorian London well, and I thought his depiction of Samuel Colt was especially good, but I couldn’t bring myself to care much about any of the characters. This is especially disappointing to me, as I had such high hopes for the book. With The Street Philosopher, I found myself riveted to the book, unable to put it down. Instead, with this book, I found my attention wandering at many points while reading this book. Not a fantastic book for me, but I have hopes for Matthew Plampin’s next one.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“Suddenly she started up and listened. She heard out on the road the sound of wheels, and of hooves that struck together.”

--From The Three Sisters, by May Sinclair

Review: The Bolter, by Frances Osborne

Pages: 344

Original date of publication: 2008

My edition: 2010 (Vitage)

Why I decided to read: discovered it browsing in Borders

How I acquired my copy: Borders gift card, November 2010

The subtitle of this book is “The story of Idina Sackville, who ran away to become the chief seductress of Kenya’s scandalous ‘Happy Valley’ set.” It’s true that Idina Sackville (a cousin of Vita Sackvile-West and the great-grandmother of the author) had a fascinating life; during her lifetime she “bolted” from five husbands and three children, settling down in Kenya. She wasn’t a particularly beautiful woman, but her sexual exploits were legendary, and she inspired characters for several books, namely the Bolter in Nancy Mitford’s novels.

The author, Frances Osborne, is a great-granddaughter of Idina; unfortunately, she imposes herself too much into Indina’s story. She also focuses too much on Idina’s sex life and not enough on Idina’s experiences in Kenya, which in itself is an interesting place and worthy of more than just a sketchy description. Because Idina is an ancestor of the author, I kept getting the feeling that she was trying to explain away or downplay Idina’s behavior. The salaciousness of Idina’s life eventually becomes tedious, as the reader begins to wonder what the point of it all was for Idina.

It seems as though Idina’s life was mostly comprised of social visits and the like, and the author gives monotonous details of what she did every day. And it’s not as though Idina ever saw the error of her ways or tried to redeem herself (except for perhaps trying to fix her fraught relationship with her elder son, David). There’s no moral to the story, no reason for me to feel any empathy with Idina, especially since she spent most of her life persuing what she thought was happiness and love. The Happy Valley set was made up of a bunch of unlikable characters, but the author tries to paint them in a rosy light. In addition, the author’s prose style is a bit choppy. I can see why she would want to write about Idina and her set, but maybe she was a bit too close to her subject matter to be really objective about it.

The Sunday Salon

I’ve been very busy for the past couple of weeks! Two weeks ago I moved into my new apartment, so I’ve been very busy with all that entails. There are still some finishing touches that need to be done (I didn’t get the window blinds for the living room until Tuesday), but it’s all looking pretty good! I spent much of the first Saturday unpacking books; I think I had 31 boxes of them! Nothing is organized on the shelves, though. I culled a lot from my collection to trade at the Book trader here in Old City Philadelphia for credit for new books—so I went back there this morning and walked away with The Ice House, by Nina Bawden, The Burning of Bridget Cleary, by Angela Bourke, West With the Night, by Beryl Markham, and Mary Olivier: A Life, by May Sinclair. The Book Trader is a great place to find those hidden treasures—especially those of the Virago kind!

Speaking of Virago, last week I participated in Virago Reading Week. I usually love many of the books they reprint, but for some reason I couldn’t quite get myself to enjoy the books I picked out to read: Devoted Ladies, by Molly Keane, Harriet Hume, by Rebecca West, and The Loved and Envied, by Enid Bagnold. I’m planning on doing Persephone Reading Weekend, which is coming up at the end of the month. I had fun last May doing the Reading Week that was organized, and I think I’ve got some good ones on the shelf that are begging to be read: Every Eye, by Isobel English, A Very Great Profession, by Nicola Beauman, Alas Poor Lady, by Rachel Ferguson, Few Eggs and No Oranges, by Vere Hodgson, and There Were No Windows, by Norah Hoult.

This week I got back into reading historical fiction, with The Lion of Mortimer, by Juliet Dymoke (about Edward II) and The Tudor Secret, by CW Gortner. Both enjoyable, but not favorites. I really am in a reading slump right now, aren’t I? I think after I finish The Tudor Secret, I think I’ll go for some nonfiction, which I’m really in the mood for right now; my last great read was the superb A Woman’s Place.

Review: The Winter Journey, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Pages: 624

Original date of publication: 1997

My edition: 2007 (Sphere)

Why I decided to read: I’m trying to read the whole Morland Dynasty series

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, January 2010

#20: 1851-1855: Covers the Great Exhibition; Crimean War

In The Winter Journey, the story of the Morland family shifts focus for a bit. A distant cousin arrives from South Carolina in time for the Great Exhibition. Charlotte, happily married to Oliver Fleetwood, uses her wealth and influence to help build a hospital, in London just as cholera strikes. Her brother, Cavendish, is a cavalry officer called to the Crimea; and Oliver, an intelligence officer, goes there too, along with Charlotte.

The family takes a bit of a back seat to the historical events that are taking place. The Crimean War takes up a good chunk of the novel, especially the tragic Charge of the Light Brigade, which I’d obviously heard about but never really knew much of. Cynthia Harrod-Eagles gives her readers a good fictional account of what happened that day, as well as the other battles that occurred during that war. It’s the Morlands’ participation in the big (and small) events in history that makes this series so appealing, and this novel didn’t disappoint in that regard. As you might expect from a book in this series, lots of famous people make cameos; through Charlotte’s hospital work, predictably she meets Florence Nightingale. But I do enjoy seeing these real people from history walk across the stage at various points.

As I’ve said the family watch from the sidelines as history is taking place; but what I love about these characters is that Harrod-Eagles never foces a modern mindset upon them. They all behave with this same mores that you would expect from the period, so that Charlotte isn’t some modern feminist or something! In this way, the author makes her characters seem more real.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“Edward responded by putting her hand to his lips, genuinely moved. But this mood of grief and of determination to honor his dead father lasted only a few hours.”

--From The Lion of Mortimer, by Juliet Dymoke (a novel about Edward II)

Review: Henrietta Sees it Through, by Joyce Dennys

Pages: 180

Original date of publication: 1940s

My edition: 2010 (Bloomsbury Group)

Why I decided to read: I’m trying to read all the books reprinted by the Bloomsbury Group

How I acquired my copy: Bookdepository, June 2010

Henrietta Sees it Through is a continuation of Henrietta’s War, taking Henrietta, her doctor husband, and their village up through WWII. Like the first book, the story is told through Henrietta’s eyes through a number of letters she writes to her childhood friend, Robert. Many of the same characters appear in this book, especially the indomitable Lady B.

I wasn’t quite as charned by Henrietta Sees it Through as I was by Henrietta’s War. This one just wasn’t as funny, especially since most of the book revolved around Henrietta’s friendship with Lady B—touching, at times, but I would have liked to have seen more from Mrs. Savernack, or the Conductor, or even Henrietta’s husband. But there are some truly touching moments in this novel, and even a happy ending for some, despite the gravity of the war. Everyone in the book seems to be a bit worn down by the war, and so Henrietta’s observations of her neighbors aren’t quite as sarcastic and biting. There’s a lot of whimsy to this novel, but it’s not quite as eccentric as it is in Henrietta’s War.