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144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1992
Adele Geras said in an interview that she wrote her earlier novels in notebooks and read her sentences aloud to see how they sounded. This attention shows in the imagery she creates.
Stories are more than sentence sounds and imagery though. There is the atmosphere. Geras is like Elizabeth Jane Howard in that she has drawn on her own life and experiences at Rowdean in the fictional Egerton Hall. The spirit of the early 1960s in the bed sitting rooms, solitary gas rings and flowered carpets hangs heavily. I think I was expecting something more light hearted, with school lessons and a tower room; like a mixture of Harry Potter and Mallory Towers.
This is not a pleasant fantasy for children. As kitch and clichéd as the scenes with "jolly hockey sticks" and "toasted crumpets" are, there is an innocence of childhood about these stories that is part of their appeal.
In this novel there is ,"something nasty in the woodshed", rather like Jacqueline Wilson combined with 'The L Shaped Room"
There were not enough lighter moments balance the darker ones.
I think that part of the appeal of the Potter books or "The Light Years" (E.J.Howard) or Tolkien is that the reader can imagine themselves in that world, and a part of them would also like to be there with Bertie Wooster or with the students in 'The Secret History'. I wanted no part of Geras's creation. The home sickness of arriving at school;
I caught sight of a huge building, even darker than the dark sky, with rows and rows of lighted windows set into the black. Like topazes lying on black velvet, that's what I said then. What a peculiar child I must have been, but even now I can recall how comforting it was to see that yellow shining out into the night....What else can I remember? My mother's face, very pale, both of us trying hard not to cry"
The bedrooms- "informally spartan. We have candlewick counterpains in shades of pink, blue, yellow or lilac, and curtains with a flower pattern made almost invisible by countless washes, and that's that. Everything else was added by whoever's living in the room: posters, books, photographs of parents, or pets, or (later) boyfriends, and ornaments of all descriptions. There were crazes for things. I remember an especially disgusting statuette of a cat I had, which was supposed to turn blue when it rained and pink when it was fine. Everybody had one at this particular time except (typically) Alice."
What a feeling of relief that Egerton Hal is fictional, and a flinching thought to inhabit it yourself.
This would be better as a memoire and I would have cut out the fantasy elements. It only makes the characters less believable and doesn't add anything.