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432 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1942
When I left Westwood one September afternoon, home grew smaller and faded into the clouds, like the land when you leave for Europe. After that I was always going away and always coming back, but whenever I came back part of me did not belong there.and 100 pages later
All at once I felt like a stranger, or as though I had never really known my family. It must have been because their interests were no longer the same as mine. I did not even seem to care whether my friends were interested in me or not. In some way we were all like people speaking different languages.This is a novel that builds upon itself so that while the early pages made me wonder if I could even warm to it, it was definitely good enough to keep with it and got better the deeper I read. Still, the early parts were weak enough that I can't bring myself to give it 4 stars and it sits toward the top of the 3-star list. I'll be happy to give Marquand another try with his earlier book and Pulitzer winner The Late George Apley.