Oh my goodness.
For years people have been gently pushing Sylvia Townsend Warner’s Lolly Willowes my way, and I have nodded and smiled and soothed them with a noncommittal, “Yes, yes, one day I’ll read it.”
Got it before Christmas, put it on the Century reading pile. Picked it up last night, and have communed with it at every available moment this busy, busy day, and I am so sorry it is over. (The book, not the day. The day has not been stellar, to put it mildly.)
Easily an 11/10 on the personal rating scale. Maybe even a 12.
I guess I’d better come up with a proper post, but I just needed to share my deep joy at this fantastic thing.
Eating apples with the devil, for those are his favourite fruit, you know. Oh, yes, indeed.
Are her other books this good?
Even if they’re not, I’m going to track them down.
This one is utterly perfect.