Polly Flint is deposited by her father, a sea captain who then promptly dies at sea, in the Yellow House on marshes on the east coast of Yorkshire, not far from Hartlepool, with her two aunts, a permanent houseguest and a rather grim servant, Alice. She finds her place there, isolated and rather stern, but not quite bleak, passion however eccentrically directed abounds. Polly becomes obsessed, early, with the story of Robinson Crusoe which makes sense as you get to know her. Neighbors, a love interest or two, a benign uncle-ish fellow float through, first one war, then the second, and modernization and changes, and Polly grows up and then grows old. A memoir novel, not told in the first person, wisely, but quiet and like all Gardam's work, a balancing act between internal workings of the mind and desires and betrayals of the body. Didn't grab hold of me as others of her novels have, but no complaints. ***1/2 ( )

Das Buch hat mich wirklich fasziniert - allerdings fand ich es nicht einfach zu lesen. Einige der Figuren bleiben eher rätselhaft, weil sie aus dem unzuverlässigen Blickwinkel einer kindlichen Erzählerin beschrieben werden, andere werden einfach zu knapp geschildert.

Ich werde sicher weitere Bücher der Autorin ausprobieren, allerdings habe ich mir von diesem echt mehr versprochen. ( )

Polly Flint arrives at the Yellow House as a child, her mother dead and her seafaring father soon to be lost at sea. She is left in the care of two elderly spinster aunts, both peculiar in their way, though no more so than the others that frequent the house which sits upon the marsh near Thwaite. Polly ends up spending the next 80 years at the Yellow House, a time of two great wars and other monumental changes, but relatively little change for Polly. So perhaps not surprisingly her love and admiration is reserved for Defoe’s great marooned hero, Robinson Crusoe.

Perhaps only Gardam could write a novel so vast in its temporal arch that nonetheless comes across as intimate. Polly is both naive and wise in equal measure. She faces difficult challenges, not least being female in an isolated locale with little or no guidance. She finds succour in the great novel collection left by her grandfather, and most especially in Defoe’s creation with which she engages throughout her long life. At points that engagement amounts to a commentary on the nature of the novel form. But it remains entirely a personal engagement for Polly. And you cannot help but hope for some less than ephemeral happiness to surround Polly and lift her up. It is fine writing indeed.

Easy to recommend. ( )

Favorite quote: "For years of our lives the days pass waywardly, featureless, without meaning, without particular happiness or unhappiness. Then, like turning over a tapestry when you have only known the back of it, there is spread the pattern." ( )

Have read several of Jane Gardam's books and think this is the best. The peroration is glorious writing. ( )