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Book Review
Aug. 17th, 2005 08:28 pmThe Last September
by Elizabeth Bowen
Bowen's writing kind of reminds me of the most impressionistic of impressionist paintings. Everything is subtle and under the surface, a surface which is itself a strange contradiction of clarity and haze. Sometimes I wasn't quite sure what was going on, yet at others I was struck by the perceptiveness of Bowen's observations or the richness of her phrasing. The story concerns Lois, a young woman living with her aunt and uncle in 1920s Ireland. Lois is feeling her way towards making a place in life, negotiating the paths of love, freedom, tradition, independence, etc. However, this novel's strength is less in character or plot development and more in the evocation of atmosphere. My memory captures it more like a cloud of fragrance than like a narrative to be recounted.
by Elizabeth Bowen
Bowen's writing kind of reminds me of the most impressionistic of impressionist paintings. Everything is subtle and under the surface, a surface which is itself a strange contradiction of clarity and haze. Sometimes I wasn't quite sure what was going on, yet at others I was struck by the perceptiveness of Bowen's observations or the richness of her phrasing. The story concerns Lois, a young woman living with her aunt and uncle in 1920s Ireland. Lois is feeling her way towards making a place in life, negotiating the paths of love, freedom, tradition, independence, etc. However, this novel's strength is less in character or plot development and more in the evocation of atmosphere. My memory captures it more like a cloud of fragrance than like a narrative to be recounted.
