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Under the Garden
Strange characters and mysterious threats will keep readers enraptured in this tale of a man who revisits his childhood home and recalls a youthful adventure "under the garden".
87 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
10 people are currently reading
308 people want to read
About the author
Graham Greene
801 books6,119 followersHenry Graham Greene was an English writer and journalist regarded by many as one of the leading novelists of the 20th century.
Combining literary acclaim with widespread popularity, Greene acquired a reputation early in his lifetime as a major writer, both of serious Catholic novels, and of thrillers (or "entertainments" as he termed them). He was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in Literature several times. Through 67 years of writing, which included over 25 novels, he explored the conflicting moral and political issues of the modern world. The Power and the Glory won the 1941 Hawthornden Prize and The Heart of the Matter won the 1948 James Tait Black Memorial Prize and was shortlisted for the Best of the James Tait Black. Greene was awarded the 1968 Shakespeare Prize and the 1981 Jerusalem Prize. Several of his stories have been filmed, some more than once, and he collaborated with filmmaker Carol Reed on The Fallen Idol (1948) and The Third Man (1949).
He converted to Catholicism in 1926 after meeting his future wife, Vivienne Dayrell-Browning. Later in life he took to calling himself a "Catholic agnostic". He died in 1991, aged 86, of leukemia, and was buried in Corseaux cemetery in Switzerland. William Golding called Greene "the ultimate chronicler of twentieth-century man's consciousness and anxiety".
Combining literary acclaim with widespread popularity, Greene acquired a reputation early in his lifetime as a major writer, both of serious Catholic novels, and of thrillers (or "entertainments" as he termed them). He was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in Literature several times. Through 67 years of writing, which included over 25 novels, he explored the conflicting moral and political issues of the modern world. The Power and the Glory won the 1941 Hawthornden Prize and The Heart of the Matter won the 1948 James Tait Black Memorial Prize and was shortlisted for the Best of the James Tait Black. Greene was awarded the 1968 Shakespeare Prize and the 1981 Jerusalem Prize. Several of his stories have been filmed, some more than once, and he collaborated with filmmaker Carol Reed on The Fallen Idol (1948) and The Third Man (1949).
He converted to Catholicism in 1926 after meeting his future wife, Vivienne Dayrell-Browning. Later in life he took to calling himself a "Catholic agnostic". He died in 1991, aged 86, of leukemia, and was buried in Corseaux cemetery in Switzerland. William Golding called Greene "the ultimate chronicler of twentieth-century man's consciousness and anxiety".
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews
April 13, 2022
I have made it a practice of reading everything by Graham Greene at least once more - in that way, I am able to revisit the uniformly dazzling brilliance of his writing and storytelling capabilities and also rediscover and relive the first feelings of exhilaration and release that I always feel when I read anything written by him.
"Under The Garden", originally a long short story, or almost a novella that belongs to his beautiful story collection called "A Sense of Reality" (go ahead, read it to discover a whole new dimension to his fiction), is, on the surface, a strange and most unlikely Greene story - it is set firmly in the realm of fantasy and imagination whereas most of his novels are rooted in sordid realism, it is a fairy-tale disguised as a story of a dying old man's return to his roots and rediscovery of a surreal experience from his boyhood (or is it the other way around?) and yet, even as it strays away from politics, Catholicism, intrigue and moral conundrums, it nevertheless is very much the work of the master, made wistful by his signature streak of melancholy and romanticism, rendered thrilling and lively with his knack for characterisation and wise and witty dialogue and also adorned with his favourite themes - death, aging, love, lust, surrogate father figures and disloyalty and wanderlust - so that it ranks, in my humble opinion, among his definitive works too.
But the experience of reading anything by Greene, as I have said even before, is incomplete without its own personal angle, an element of personal resonance that makes him even more special in my opinion. In the last few months, I have been confronted with the reality of how some things, including friendships, can end suddenly because of circumstances or changes that one cannot foresee. The idyllic duration of these things seems like a blissful escape from inevitable reality, a pattern of life or even a moment that we feel would last forever and yet it never does, things pass away and the experience fades out like a dream. And yet, some experiences hold us prisoner to the vain and futile illusion that these were indeed everlasting and permanent and can be rediscovered later again in our life. Which is what I too like to think of what ended for me in these last few months but which I cannot be sure that it would be true.
At heart, "Under The Garden" is about that uncertainty, that feeling of not knowing what's true and what is merely a dream, what will last forever and what will be irreversibly changed and whether it is a cathartic experience in our childhood and innocence that forms our adulthood or we are all destined to be the way we are and the truth is something more unremarkable. It is indeed fantastical, almost eye-widening and even surprisingly erotic and tenderly romantic in turns, just like how Greene always chronicled these things. But much more than that, this story is one of the truest chronicles of how it feels to unmask one's illusions and yet be surprised and moved and stirred by some remnant of imagination left in our souls. For which other writer could make us question what makes or destroys our hopes, illusions and dreams than this storyteller, forever treading the dangerous edge between good and evil, faith and disbelief, loyalty and betrayal, indeed?
"Under The Garden", originally a long short story, or almost a novella that belongs to his beautiful story collection called "A Sense of Reality" (go ahead, read it to discover a whole new dimension to his fiction), is, on the surface, a strange and most unlikely Greene story - it is set firmly in the realm of fantasy and imagination whereas most of his novels are rooted in sordid realism, it is a fairy-tale disguised as a story of a dying old man's return to his roots and rediscovery of a surreal experience from his boyhood (or is it the other way around?) and yet, even as it strays away from politics, Catholicism, intrigue and moral conundrums, it nevertheless is very much the work of the master, made wistful by his signature streak of melancholy and romanticism, rendered thrilling and lively with his knack for characterisation and wise and witty dialogue and also adorned with his favourite themes - death, aging, love, lust, surrogate father figures and disloyalty and wanderlust - so that it ranks, in my humble opinion, among his definitive works too.
But the experience of reading anything by Greene, as I have said even before, is incomplete without its own personal angle, an element of personal resonance that makes him even more special in my opinion. In the last few months, I have been confronted with the reality of how some things, including friendships, can end suddenly because of circumstances or changes that one cannot foresee. The idyllic duration of these things seems like a blissful escape from inevitable reality, a pattern of life or even a moment that we feel would last forever and yet it never does, things pass away and the experience fades out like a dream. And yet, some experiences hold us prisoner to the vain and futile illusion that these were indeed everlasting and permanent and can be rediscovered later again in our life. Which is what I too like to think of what ended for me in these last few months but which I cannot be sure that it would be true.
At heart, "Under The Garden" is about that uncertainty, that feeling of not knowing what's true and what is merely a dream, what will last forever and what will be irreversibly changed and whether it is a cathartic experience in our childhood and innocence that forms our adulthood or we are all destined to be the way we are and the truth is something more unremarkable. It is indeed fantastical, almost eye-widening and even surprisingly erotic and tenderly romantic in turns, just like how Greene always chronicled these things. But much more than that, this story is one of the truest chronicles of how it feels to unmask one's illusions and yet be surprised and moved and stirred by some remnant of imagination left in our souls. For which other writer could make us question what makes or destroys our hopes, illusions and dreams than this storyteller, forever treading the dangerous edge between good and evil, faith and disbelief, loyalty and betrayal, indeed?
August 17, 2023
It was only when the doctor said to him, “Of course the fact that you don’t smoke is in your favour,” Wilditch realized what it was he had been trying to convey with such tact. Dr. Cave had lined up along one wall a series of X-ray photographs, the whorls of which reminded the patient of those pictures of the Earth’s surface taken from a great height that he had pored over at one period during the war, trying to detect the tiny grey seed of a launching camp.
A devastating first paragraph to begin this short story. The first line reveals that the protagonist Wilditch is in trouble with regard to his health. The interesting comparison between Wilditch's Xrays and pictures of the earth's surface reveals his profession as a spy or some sort of spook. Great start from Greene.
Under the Garden is a fantasy short story. Unlike anything I read by Greene. It is about ageing, terminal illness, cozy and scary places in your ancestral property and unreliable childhood memories. Greene conjures up nostalgia that is stinging yet comforting. Nobody else does it like Graham Greene. Graham Greene can make you gulp and marvel after every paragraph.
A devastating first paragraph to begin this short story. The first line reveals that the protagonist Wilditch is in trouble with regard to his health. The interesting comparison between Wilditch's Xrays and pictures of the earth's surface reveals his profession as a spy or some sort of spook. Great start from Greene.
Under the Garden is a fantasy short story. Unlike anything I read by Greene. It is about ageing, terminal illness, cozy and scary places in your ancestral property and unreliable childhood memories. Greene conjures up nostalgia that is stinging yet comforting. Nobody else does it like Graham Greene. Graham Greene can make you gulp and marvel after every paragraph.
September 6, 2015
A Penguin 60s short story. Graham Greene, but not really the Grahame Greene I have read before (I acknowledge however I have only read a fraction of his work), no spies, no espionage, no vacuum cleaner salesmen. I ought to clarify here that I am fan of Greene.
The story has three parts. In the first William Wilditch (ha, Wild Itch), in his later years, is diagnosed with lung cancer, and believing the end is near visits his brother. George lives in a house that was once their uncles, where they spent time in childhood. Wilditch is reminiscing with his brother, when he is reminded of a story he wrote at school and how much it upset his mother. Recollections are faded and he and brother George recall events differently. After retiring for the evening while looking through some of his mothers old books, William finds a letter from the school responding to his mothers complaints, and then a copy of his story. He reads it, but is then struck that he left out a lot of his telling, and is suddenly aware that he is unable to determine if the events were real or a dream.
Part two, and WW sets out to write his story as he remembers it, complete and full of detail. This is the main body of the story, and tells of his several day ordeal in a tunnel under the garden, where he meets a strange man and women, and is held against his will. Strange goings on etc.
The third part of the story, takes place the morning after, where WW retraces his steps of many years ago, to try and determine whether it was real or a dream.
Well written, rich in atmosphere, a pleasure to read.
The story has three parts. In the first William Wilditch (ha, Wild Itch), in his later years, is diagnosed with lung cancer, and believing the end is near visits his brother. George lives in a house that was once their uncles, where they spent time in childhood. Wilditch is reminiscing with his brother, when he is reminded of a story he wrote at school and how much it upset his mother. Recollections are faded and he and brother George recall events differently. After retiring for the evening while looking through some of his mothers old books, William finds a letter from the school responding to his mothers complaints, and then a copy of his story. He reads it, but is then struck that he left out a lot of his telling, and is suddenly aware that he is unable to determine if the events were real or a dream.
Part two, and WW sets out to write his story as he remembers it, complete and full of detail. This is the main body of the story, and tells of his several day ordeal in a tunnel under the garden, where he meets a strange man and women, and is held against his will. Strange goings on etc.
The third part of the story, takes place the morning after, where WW retraces his steps of many years ago, to try and determine whether it was real or a dream.
Well written, rich in atmosphere, a pleasure to read.
December 12, 2024
This is not the usual Graham Greene story that I had read.
The plot is simple. Of course, it is supposed to be a lengthy short story.
The core plot is that a dying man remembers his childhood days.
Childhood memories are mixed with both fantasies and realities.
As a dying man, the protagonist thinks of his childhood 'adventure,' the adventure that is filled with both fantasy and reality. As a grown up man he is able to see the fantasy elements in that adventure. Or so he thinks.
Are imagination and reality really related?
Or are they totally different?
Can imagination teach you better things than the reality?
These are some of the questions for which Greene tried finding answers via this short story.
The way Greene built up the story is interesting. As a reader you keep on reading the page after page. But something essential of Greene (totally subjective - it is my own view) was missing in it.
The plot is simple. Of course, it is supposed to be a lengthy short story.
The core plot is that a dying man remembers his childhood days.
Childhood memories are mixed with both fantasies and realities.
As a dying man, the protagonist thinks of his childhood 'adventure,' the adventure that is filled with both fantasy and reality. As a grown up man he is able to see the fantasy elements in that adventure. Or so he thinks.
Are imagination and reality really related?
Or are they totally different?
Can imagination teach you better things than the reality?
These are some of the questions for which Greene tried finding answers via this short story.
The way Greene built up the story is interesting. As a reader you keep on reading the page after page. But something essential of Greene (totally subjective - it is my own view) was missing in it.
March 7, 2022
I love the little Penguin 60s and this story of Graham Greene’s, Under the Garden, is bewitching. What is real and what is imagined? The main character William Wilditch, on learning he has a terminal illness, decides to visit his childhood home now run by his brother. William has evidently spent most of his life travelling and is obviously not close to his brother George. His parents are long gone.
When he arrives at his old home he begins to remember odd things: how he loved treasure hunting and that he possibly disappeared for days underground in an island on the pond of the estate. “Sitting that night over coffee and brandy, during the long family pauses, Wilditch wondered whether as a child he could possibly have been so secretive as never to have spoken of his dream, his game, whatever it was. In his memory the adventure had lasted for several days.”
Later staying in his mother’s room he finds his old school magazine and a story written by his younger self, The Treasure on the Island. When William reads it he decides that obviously a lot has been left out. In Part Two our protagonist decides to write down what really happened. And what an odd story it is. In Part 3 William begins to investigate the island and again things don’t match up but in his conversation with the gardener there is a hint of something. An echo of the character Javitt, the strange man William fouind, under the garden. This is a mesmerising story, which I’m sure, each reader will take something different from.
When he arrives at his old home he begins to remember odd things: how he loved treasure hunting and that he possibly disappeared for days underground in an island on the pond of the estate. “Sitting that night over coffee and brandy, during the long family pauses, Wilditch wondered whether as a child he could possibly have been so secretive as never to have spoken of his dream, his game, whatever it was. In his memory the adventure had lasted for several days.”
Later staying in his mother’s room he finds his old school magazine and a story written by his younger self, The Treasure on the Island. When William reads it he decides that obviously a lot has been left out. In Part Two our protagonist decides to write down what really happened. And what an odd story it is. In Part 3 William begins to investigate the island and again things don’t match up but in his conversation with the gardener there is a hint of something. An echo of the character Javitt, the strange man William fouind, under the garden. This is a mesmerising story, which I’m sure, each reader will take something different from.
October 7, 2010
This is by far my favorite short story, even better than the dozens of Kipling's fighting it out for second place and the more dozens (mainly Tanith Lee, Lovecraft and Sherman Alexie) swarming around third. It will make your brain hurt but good. Like Graham Greene's novels, the theme is hopelessness and the determination to hold on to what is precious despite everything. He makes the depressing invigorating.
August 1, 2020
Adventuring into literary nonsense from mortal concerns.
March 24, 2011
After attending a funeral for a family member,
I endured some satanic version of the flu. While
recovering I picked up this story in which a 'dying
man reflects on a moment from his childhood'.
I could only think it was entirely appropriate in
regards to the funeral, and perhaps an omen as to
how I was then feeling taking my prescriptions.
The story's protagonist, WW, forgoes the Doctor's
orders of immediate surgery, which may save him, or
just as likely finish him off, to visit his childhood
home, in which his older brother now lives.
Initially he has those revelations we all
come upon, that make us smile, that things seemed much
larger when we were little, such as the lake on which he
launched a raft to reach the secret island, which is really
barely a pond, the island, you could make a jump to
land upon.
WW lapses into sweet musing of a dream he once
had of an adventure into the caverns on the island.
How he learned so much from the characters he met down there,
more than any teaching he received afterward. The memories
serve to connect his life from one end to the other,
and remind him the courage he once had as a child will be
called upon again.
April 18, 2010
I love this piece of weird, bonkers literary drug trip ... It's scary in places, halarious in places, and plain old fashioned *strange* in most of the rest.
Listen to the Kenneth Brenaugh audio version and add even more fun. :)
Listen to the Kenneth Brenaugh audio version and add even more fun. :)
January 10, 2021
nullimmortalis July 31, 2017 at 2:24 pm Edit
PART ONE
“Gusts of wind barely warmed by July drove the rain aslant…”
Barely July today, by the skin of my teeth, as I learn about this mid 20th century man called Wilditch, (called WW in an old school article like Jacobs?) diagnosed barely terminal, diagnosed by well-characterised doctors, all in a prose beautifully stylish, but it is potentially or vaguely bad news that WW takes stoically, and he goes to make a rare visit to his old boyhood house near Colchester (the town, the oldest recorded one in England, where I myself was born), a house his brother now lives in, WW now having memories of his mother who was against ‘silly fancies’, and his writing ventures as a boy, of exploring the island in the house’s lake – a bit inspired by Treasure Island – and what he once found under the garden. That’s where I will leave you to other people’s spoilers, spoilers that I hope to avoid heretofore.
But is WW really dying? A fey story, if not a fairy one? One about a dream as well as real life? And a dream, it is contended, is an experience as much as any part of life.
And I was rather shocked by the word ‘well’ being added to this statement…
“…he had never learnt how to drive a car well.”
nullimmortalis August 1, 2017 at 9:31 am Edit
Beware Spoilers and Rogues
PART TWO
1 – 4
“Scrawled with the simplicity of ancient man upon the left-hand wall of the passage – done with a sharp tool like a chisel – was the outline of a gigantic fish.”
Is it a Tench?
These chapters remind me strongly of John Cowper Powys as we follow WW (one moit (a word used in the text) himself as a child dreaming and the other moit himself now older, in terminal illness, remembering real events as a child under the garden), a mix of Long John Silver and Robinson Crusoe, and finding first this fish and a newspaper (Colchester Guardian) from fifty years before smelling of fish, and an oldish man sitting on a decorative lavatory seat (except there is a pit underneath) and his quacking wife. Make sense? IT DOES IN THE BOOK. The man reminds me of Trump tweeting from his throne and his daughter (Ivanka?) anachronistically being a beauty queen her father fancies in a magazine. WW is given a golden po to piss in, meanwhile, there are many wise saws and homilies in this work. A major discovery for me. It means more than it means. It’s about life – and death. Can’t yet imagine where it might be going….
A stench, then, not a Tench.
nullimmortalis August 1, 2017 at 10:56 am Edit
PART TWO
5 – 7
PART THREE
“The gold of dreams is not the diluted gold of even the best goldsmith, there are no diamonds in dreams made of paste — what seems is. ‘Who seems most kingly is the king.'”
There is so much oblique wisdom in this book, more powerful than standard wisdom; the curiosity of Carroll now explicitly becomes curiouser here : the ‘curiosity growing inside him like cancer.’ The gold po now found in older life with flaky yellow paint. And past life something that needs re-interpreting, a quest for Miss Ramsgate (that beauty queen from that magazine of Javitt the old man on his loo-pan, not to mention Javitt’s kwahking ‘wife’ Maria). But equally such obliquity gives hope to those of us at the ends of our lives. A miracle of literature. Only madness will suffice. The sort of madness that seems and thus is. The stuff, not the paste, that dreams are mad on.
“‘Do you like black skin, Master William?’
‘I suppose at one time or another I’ve been fond of black skin.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought they’d win a beauty prize,’ Ernest said.
‘Do you know Ramsgate, Ernest?'”
end
PART ONE
“Gusts of wind barely warmed by July drove the rain aslant…”
Barely July today, by the skin of my teeth, as I learn about this mid 20th century man called Wilditch, (called WW in an old school article like Jacobs?) diagnosed barely terminal, diagnosed by well-characterised doctors, all in a prose beautifully stylish, but it is potentially or vaguely bad news that WW takes stoically, and he goes to make a rare visit to his old boyhood house near Colchester (the town, the oldest recorded one in England, where I myself was born), a house his brother now lives in, WW now having memories of his mother who was against ‘silly fancies’, and his writing ventures as a boy, of exploring the island in the house’s lake – a bit inspired by Treasure Island – and what he once found under the garden. That’s where I will leave you to other people’s spoilers, spoilers that I hope to avoid heretofore.
But is WW really dying? A fey story, if not a fairy one? One about a dream as well as real life? And a dream, it is contended, is an experience as much as any part of life.
And I was rather shocked by the word ‘well’ being added to this statement…
“…he had never learnt how to drive a car well.”
nullimmortalis August 1, 2017 at 9:31 am Edit
Beware Spoilers and Rogues
PART TWO
1 – 4
“Scrawled with the simplicity of ancient man upon the left-hand wall of the passage – done with a sharp tool like a chisel – was the outline of a gigantic fish.”
Is it a Tench?
These chapters remind me strongly of John Cowper Powys as we follow WW (one moit (a word used in the text) himself as a child dreaming and the other moit himself now older, in terminal illness, remembering real events as a child under the garden), a mix of Long John Silver and Robinson Crusoe, and finding first this fish and a newspaper (Colchester Guardian) from fifty years before smelling of fish, and an oldish man sitting on a decorative lavatory seat (except there is a pit underneath) and his quacking wife. Make sense? IT DOES IN THE BOOK. The man reminds me of Trump tweeting from his throne and his daughter (Ivanka?) anachronistically being a beauty queen her father fancies in a magazine. WW is given a golden po to piss in, meanwhile, there are many wise saws and homilies in this work. A major discovery for me. It means more than it means. It’s about life – and death. Can’t yet imagine where it might be going….
A stench, then, not a Tench.
nullimmortalis August 1, 2017 at 10:56 am Edit
PART TWO
5 – 7
PART THREE
“The gold of dreams is not the diluted gold of even the best goldsmith, there are no diamonds in dreams made of paste — what seems is. ‘Who seems most kingly is the king.'”
There is so much oblique wisdom in this book, more powerful than standard wisdom; the curiosity of Carroll now explicitly becomes curiouser here : the ‘curiosity growing inside him like cancer.’ The gold po now found in older life with flaky yellow paint. And past life something that needs re-interpreting, a quest for Miss Ramsgate (that beauty queen from that magazine of Javitt the old man on his loo-pan, not to mention Javitt’s kwahking ‘wife’ Maria). But equally such obliquity gives hope to those of us at the ends of our lives. A miracle of literature. Only madness will suffice. The sort of madness that seems and thus is. The stuff, not the paste, that dreams are mad on.
“‘Do you like black skin, Master William?’
‘I suppose at one time or another I’ve been fond of black skin.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought they’d win a beauty prize,’ Ernest said.
‘Do you know Ramsgate, Ernest?'”
end
February 22, 2020
Introspective - excellent piece of writing.
September 7, 2023
A powerful work by one of the greatest writers of literary thrillers. It delves into the childhood of a man who has just received terrible news and draws connections faintly but powerfully to reveal much about the man’s life and character.
June 24, 2025
what a wonderful fantastical little story 🌟
June 2, 2013
Small enough to keep in my handbag, for odd moments of reading. A touching and imaginative story from the memories of an old man's childhood. Old-fashioned in a way, but nicely written by a very good writer.
June 12, 2025
80 pages of utter joy !
Graham Greene is slowly becoming one of my desert island authors. Weird, fantastical and poignant, this felt a bit like a grownup fairytale… Just what I want out of a book.
Favourite line: ‘Be disloyal. It’s your duty to the human race.’
Graham Greene is slowly becoming one of my desert island authors. Weird, fantastical and poignant, this felt a bit like a grownup fairytale… Just what I want out of a book.
Favourite line: ‘Be disloyal. It’s your duty to the human race.’
February 7, 2023
This little tale wins the top rating from me -not on account of its weird conceit (I’m not wholly convinced by his experiment in reality). Instead it’s that distinctive, hypnotic narrative voice of his, coaxing me further into a vague psychic hinterland. Frankly I’d go anywhere his storyline takes me- he just KNOWS what turns a reader “on”.
April 24, 2018
A tiny Penguin book that I am selling. A dying man's reflection back to an incident "under the garden" in his childhood. From a master writer.
September 16, 2021
A good fiction which remind me of my wild childhood dreams.
January 1, 2022
A novella length story for Graham Greene, as a man with newly diagnosed late stage cancer visits his brother at their childhood home, and relives a dream from the age of seven.
December 3, 2022
I like Greene's writing, but found this book only moderately interesting. It's a short book, but kept putting me to sleep...
April 12, 2014
This enigmatic tale by Graham Greene fulfils to a degree the requirements of the German definition of a novella. There is a frame narrative, of a middle-aged man who has travelled far and wide, leading an adventurous life. When his doctors diagnose lung cancer, he visits his brother, who has inherited their uncle's house. In this house they spent many holidays as children with their mother. He remembers many things from his childhood, especially a particular event that stands out as an exceptional adventure. However, he cannot remember whether it was an actual event or a dream. He sits down to write down his memories of this event - this becomes the main embedded narrative of the novella. As a child he once spent an extended period (a few days) underground in a tunnel system, where he encounters a man and a woman who live underground. The woman is disfigured and cannot speak, but the man speaks voluminous amounts and conveys unusual thoughts to the impressionable child. Eventually the child returns home. In the final section, as an adult again, he revisits the scene where he would have entered the tunnel system. Everything is so different; can he trust the clues he finds? Can he trust his memory, or has he added thoughts and ideas into this memory over years of experience? By weaving this mystery Greene gives us a new take on ALICE IN WONDERLAND, and he investigates memory, dream, childhood and how it shapes one's life.
Graham Greene weef 'n fassinerende verhaal oor herinneringe en drome, die effek van kinderjare op die vorm wat 'n volwassene se lewe aanneem, met 'n alternatiewe blik op 'n gegewe wat in sekere opsigte herinner aan ALICE IN WONDERLAND. 'n Man wat onlangs verneem het hy het kanker, besoek weer 'n huis waar hy baie vakansies tydens sy kinderjare deurgebring het. Hy onthou spesifiek 'n keer toe hy 'n paar dae in 'n tonnelstelsel onder die grond deurgebring het, en die vreemde man en vrou wat hy daar ontmoet het. Maar het dit werklik gebeur, of was dit net 'n droom? Is alles wat hy onthou, deel van die oorspronklike herinnering, of het gedagtes en idees oor jare heen geakkumuleer? Wat presies kan jy vertrou omtrent wat jy onthou?
Graham Greene weef 'n fassinerende verhaal oor herinneringe en drome, die effek van kinderjare op die vorm wat 'n volwassene se lewe aanneem, met 'n alternatiewe blik op 'n gegewe wat in sekere opsigte herinner aan ALICE IN WONDERLAND. 'n Man wat onlangs verneem het hy het kanker, besoek weer 'n huis waar hy baie vakansies tydens sy kinderjare deurgebring het. Hy onthou spesifiek 'n keer toe hy 'n paar dae in 'n tonnelstelsel onder die grond deurgebring het, en die vreemde man en vrou wat hy daar ontmoet het. Maar het dit werklik gebeur, of was dit net 'n droom? Is alles wat hy onthou, deel van die oorspronklike herinnering, of het gedagtes en idees oor jare heen geakkumuleer? Wat presies kan jy vertrou omtrent wat jy onthou?
August 20, 2013
Wish I could give it 4.5 stars. It has the feeling of a remembered childhood experience, and it has the doubt of an adult who recognizes that some things are not exactly as remembered. I loved the length of it, and I would have loved even more of it. And, although I keep telling people that you can't have ambiguity just because you couldn't come up with a good ending--well, I appreciate the possibilities that are left open at the end.
August 30, 2015
I once read 75% of this book on 8-16-2000 while my mother talked to a friend in a bookstore for like an hour. My mother loves to talk. I still have the receipt since she bought it for me when her conversation mercifully ended. I finished it in the car and decided I wanted to work in a bookstore one day. What an idiot I was. Thanks, Graham Greene.
July 15, 2008
A dying man revisits his childhood, and ponders on a dream from the past. The dream is powerful enough to be remembered and influenced by however, Greene falters on recapturing the innocence of youth and the magic that could have been under the garden.
February 6, 2009
Puzzling and, in places, disturbing and startlingly adult--just as half-remembered dreams from childhood are.
August 1, 2010
A weird and wondrous recollection of a childhood dream. A lovely rainy Sunday read.
August 10, 2011
This was so MYSTICAL and strange that I had my dad read it and my brother. They, too, felt the same eerie feeling. My brother wrote to me and saaid that he, too, had the same feeling. TRY IT!
May 8, 2012
Peculiar little story about a man revisiting his past.
March 16, 2014
Simply the best short story I have ever read. Wondrous. That's all I really have to say.
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