At thirty-two, her mother dead, Agatha Bodenham finds herself quite alone. She summons back to life the only friend she ever knew, Clarissa, the dream companion of her childhood. At first Clarissa comes by night, and then by day, gathering substance in the warmth of Agatha's obsessive love until it seems that others too can see her. See, but not touch, for Agatha has made her love child for herself alone. No man may approach her elfin creation of perfect beauty. If he does, the love which summoned her can spirit her away...

This is a confounding situation for Agatha indeed, and one which she handles with aplomb. The girl who was once her imaginary friend is now, scandalously, introduced to the world as her love child. Like other children, Clarissa grows up, and much to Agatha's satisfaction. Agatha's fantasy sours, however, when a young man falls in love with her. Here is where the book really displays its brilliance because it is forced to answer a difficult question--whose fantasy shall Clarissa ultimately be, Agatha's or her suitor's?
The issue of fantasy ownership within the novel is not to be underestimated given this novel's short length and pithy prose. It very delicately balances notions of incest, lesbianism, feminism, and heterosexual prerogative with surprising results.
A highly recommended read. (