What do you think?
Rate this book


282 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1953
At the invitation of the Schoolmaster they visited the school. Sophie looked at the boys sitting on the floor with their flimsy text-books and she asked why there were no girls. The Schoolmaster did not say he had enough trouble with the boys, instead he murmured, "This is a backward village. No one would think of sending their girls."
"They should," said Sophie. "My little daughter learns the same as any boy," and Teresa was thrust into unwilling prominence. All the boys looked at her with dislike; she made them feel belittled, but Sophie was unaware of any feeling. She gave five rupees to the school and Teresa's box of chalks. "There need is greater than ours," she said, and was thanked for her distinguished patronage.
"But they were my chalks," said Teresa.
Recently-widowed in Kashmir with two young children and a paltry pension, Sophie needs an affordable place to live. She chooses a house called Dhilkusha — ❝Ӎy heart is happy❞ — in a mountain village inhabited mostly by shepherds. And for a while, her heart is happy, or at least light-ish. But Sophie is self-absorbed and a bit careless, unable to stop spending money on pretty things, oblivious to the tensions between the Dar and Sheikh families in the village, and callous to the unhappiness of her elder child, 8-year-old Teresa. At some point, the tensions will snap.Rumer Godden is one of my all-time favorite authors. I developed a taste for her bittersweet tales when I read The Dolls' House 0670050482 over and over as a child, and I’ve admired her adult books just as much. It’s funny — I wouldn’t describe her books as something I ❝enjoy,❞ exactly. They’re not dark, but they’re full of twilight, loss, and aching. Every single one of her novels that I’ve read haunts me. But they are also beautifully written, simply and starkly, and yet with a vividness that allows me to step fully into them both as I’m reading them and when I think of them later. They’re each absolutely perfect in their knife-twisting inevitability. I finish the books convinced that there’s no way any of these stories could have turned out differently.