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384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1985
[The] English elm propagates itself underground, and was probably imported by Stone Age tribe who valued its suckering habit for fences. It might be thought a peculiarly happy tree, a self-sufficient tree, a kind of single eternity. The lack of variation among the clones, however, makes them peculiarly susceptible to the same disease. But in the 1955 was a sempiternal, essential part of our English landscape.There are attempts at documenting not only lives, but also lifestyles - new esthetics, new food even - of mid-fifties (chapter 14!), and at times I read the novel with the same fascination with which I read my mother's collection of Ty i Ja, Polish lifestyle magazine from the sixties, a treasure trove of intellectual, visual, sociological trends of the time:
[Seeing] Mary's shapelessness goblin-like straddling [Stephanie's] thick hips he wanted her and his child out of there, as though they were vulnerable to these most bizarre manifestations of the random and the destructive.But there also is Stephanie herself, about to give birth, packing her hospital bag:
She hadn't packed her statutory suitcase: now she began: nightdress, hairbrush, toothbrush, soap, Wordsworth, War and Peace, Arabella, Friday's Child. If Wordsworth was not right, what was? She desperately added the Four Quartets.(This reminds me how I packed the first volume of Ulysses. Hint: don't. Also, you may consider not reading the book if you're pregnant.)