I thought unemployment was going to be so great for my blogging, but as it turns out I’ve only read two new-to-me things since I quit my job at the beginning of May. And I liked them both, but somehow I haven’t been able to get much down on paper, so I’m trying for something a little shorter-form here.
Aunt Olive in Bohemia, by Leslie Moore, is pretty much perfect in outline. It’s about a 60 year old spinster who inherits a bunch of money and moves to London to fulfill her lifelong dream of being an artist in a studio. She makes friends with the young men in the neighboring studios, adopts a precocious model, and generally makes the lives of the people around her better. And the execution is pretty good, but…it starts out very good and gets perceptibly worse. I loved a lot of the early parts, but not I find myself dwelling more on my disappointment later.
It’s a tonal thing, I think. The story gets very serious and agonized about romance, and the gaudy stuff — people giving up everything for Love with a capital L — drown out the more delicate parts: the friendships and the artistic styles adopted by the characters and the people figuring out where they belong. Also, a grown man declares his intention of marrying a child, so. You know. Automatic deduction of one letter grade.
To sum up: I spent a while thinking Aunt Olive in Bohemia was a great book, and it’s not. But it does have some great stuff in it.