London - the London of Now - is terrorized by the Plague. Not a Nuclear Holocaust. That would be too simple. Too easy. No - a Plague. Origins unknown. Cure: none. Death comes not at once or Together, but Singly. One by One. The Talbots, a modern young couple, our best friends, and yours, want desperately for each other to survive. Polly Talbot, the instinctive rebel, is pregnant. Joe Talbot, a Man of Science, is frustrated by Science's impotence in checking the mysterious pestilence. At the outbreak of the disease, Joe volunteers as a hospital orderly, and sends Polly to his mother in the country; en route she experiences the savagery displayed by those living outside the restricted area of the city toward those they suspect of being plague-carriers. To reveal any more would be to cheat your of a rare experience. You had it when you first discovered Camus. Or Kafka. Or, yes, Waugh - for the novel has its mordantly comic aspects, too. What you must know is that this marks the debut of Penelope Giliatt as a novelist. Mrs. Giliatt is already renowned as the film critic whose essays for the London Observer's drama critic, and thus joins her husband, John Osborne, in enriching the international stage, as she has already begun to ass a new voice to contemporary fiction.
Brilliant English short story writer, novelist, critic and screenwriter, Penelope Gilliatt came to represent some of the best of the second generation writing at the New Yorker magazine.
This book really stunk. I bought it and read it on vacation due to a recommendation from an author on Band of Thebes best LGBT books of 2012 list. I generally like older gay themed books, I like British fiction, and this recommendation sealed the deal. The plot goes nowhere. You know everything except the gay parts by reading the book jacket. There's a plague but we never see it, never care, it's more the backdrop for the gay scandal then a story on it's own. The book is pre-Stonewall, pre-feminism, and really embodies the worst of that period. The woman becomes hysterical when the man isn't around. She needs tranquilizers to get through the day. There must have been a lot of tranquilizers around for all these women going to pieces. One day the husband comes home and sees the wife making a chart. He asks if it's something to do with the baby. The wife replies that no, she's crossing off the hours that she has to spend alone until he gets home. Sigh. Pre-Stonewall, all the gay characters die. The only surprising thing in the book was the gumption and back-talk of the woman when her husband's motivation was being questioned. Where was any of this during the fainting spells and sedatives? It was like a different person. The story goes nowhere, you won't care about the people, it gives no insight into the period, just poor. Avoid.
I picked this up at an estate sale last year because of its premise…a supposed deadly plague, people on lockdown etc…the story itself wasn’t great but the connections to 2019 were eerily on point especially as it was written in the 1960’s. I’d recommend it for that only. Otherwise, not great.
An odd but engaging blend of melodrama and satire. Unfortunately, though Gilliatt could clearly write very well, the plot felt too rushed to be successful.