Ellwood’s England was magical, thought Gaunt, picking his way around nettles. But it wasn’t England. Gaunt had been to the East End once, when his mother took him to give soup and bread to Irish weavers. There had been no cricket or hunting or ices, there. But Ellwood had never been interested in ugliness,
i love the way alice winn explores the price and realism behind england's beauty. and how ellwood's character represents its disintegration during the war.
