This read very similarly to a personal/family history account. I am sure that anyone who kept a diary would have at least this much flair. There really is not much to it, its like sitting down and listening to your grandmother tell you about her life growing up. It may have colorful moments but the authorship style is languid and a bit droll. I guess its also kind of like watching antique road show, as she is traipsing around the globe trying to find out how much her art collection is worth.
This book is nothing special but somehow still engaging. Written in 2 parts it contains some interesting insight into post war immigration to Australia in part one, during the second part the author is trying to figure out the origin of paintings handed down her family line, while she seems to make some progress and establish theories these are never confirmed. Her trips back and forth between Australia and Amsterdam seem to give her comfort and she has the opportunity to explore her own family history and re-establish relationships with estranged family members.
Reminded me a lot about my trips (back) to Europe, particularly the Netherlands, to catch up with relatives. - With aunts and uncles who filled in some of the details of how things were before I turned 12 and we (also) migrated to Australia. I got a little lost in the anecdotes but found it all relative enough to relax with the book. ( I should have read Casandra Silva's review first. She described the experience of reading the book very well.)