What do you think?
Rate this book


304 pages, Hardcover
First published May 19, 2015
A group of uniformed children waited at the entrance, their cries like birds. Clouds rushed us, and the wind picked up a handful of crisped leaves and threw them at the dogs. The beginnings of autumn, though we were not there yet.Recalling the response to a poem recital in her teenage years:
An eddy of applause and then a sharp throaty sound from a single spiteful girl. A silence began, a contagious sort of silence; a ripple of embarrassment that spread like blown sand, in shuffle and glare.Remembering her mother:
Hands gripping her skirts, eyes on fire, transported. She was articulate in her fury; a glamour to her - her only glamour. Never more compelling than in the arms of a rage.Her ablutions end with 'the bath blood cool, water sheeting off me'. Buses emit 'long queeny gasps'. Cautiously elegant, self-consciously refined, with something clipped, measured, and restrained about it - Maggie's voice elevates her above those around her, and yet occasionally shows her up as more judgemental than she'd like anyone to believe. Another strength of Hourston's style is the dialogue - 'And Jan? She. They got on?' 'Sorry. I've just got to. Sorry. You go' - with its halting, authentic rendering of speech.
