Beautiful, inspired descriptive prose - it was truly a delight to read at first.

However, for me, it was ultimately betrayed by the writer's failure to fully imagine the character of Helen. Throughout the novel, Helen came across not as an authentic seventeen-year-old girl but rather as the wish fulfillment of an elderly woman.

This flaw seeped way too much sentimentality into the structure of the novel. It ended up a bit like The English Patient crossdressing as Mills & Boon.

Despite this, the writing itself was stunning, wise, and poignant. It was relentlessly at high tide, captivating the reader with its beauty and power.

Yet, the lack of a believable protagonist detracted from the overall experience. It made me question whether the writer truly understood the essence of a teenage girl or was simply projecting her own desires and fantasies onto the character.

In conclusion, while the prose was remarkable, the novel as a whole fell short due to the unconvincing portrayal of Helen.

In one sense, I truly loved that this book presented a significant challenge to my vocabulary. It pushed me to learn an abundance of new words, which was both exciting and intellectually stimulating.

However, on the other hand, Ms. Hazzard's impressively crafted sentences, while undoubtedly a testament to her writing skill, did not translate into a compelling or enjoyable reading experience for me.

Simply plowing through a few pages felt like an exhausting task. I found myself constantly getting bogged down in the complexity of the language, rather than being able to fully engage with the story or ideas presented.

I managed to read about half of this book, determined to give it a proper chance. But with my reading list being so long and life being too short, I had to make a difficult decision. At this time, I simply could not continue forcing myself to wade through the vocabulary swamp.

I do love a good challenging book, as it helps me to grow and expand my knowledge. But this particular book presented a level of challenge that was perhaps a bit too much for me at the moment.

Perhaps in the future, when I have more time and a greater appetite for such complex language, this book will be the perfect fit for me. But for now, I must move on to other reading material.

Men throughout history have often felt an intense compulsion to test their fate. It is as if an inner drive pushes them to seek the ultimate truth, to learn, once and for all, who is truly the master. This inherent need to prove themselves and assert their dominance has led them on countless adventures and challenges. However, the lesson they learn is not always to their liking. Sometimes, they discover that they are not as powerful or in control as they thought. They may face setbacks, failures, and humbling experiences that force them to reevaluate their beliefs and assumptions. But despite the disappointments, this process of testing their fate is an essential part of their growth and development. It shapes their character, teaches them valuable lessons, and ultimately helps them to become stronger and wiser.

The text "Very well written but not the right mood for a lockdown. Later." is rather concise. It seems to be a comment on something that is well-written but perhaps not suitable for the current lockdown situation.

To expand it, we could say:

The piece of writing is indeed very well crafted. The author has shown great skill in putting together the words and constructing the narrative. However, it fails to capture the right mood for a lockdown. In these times of confinement and uncertainty, people are looking for something that can offer them comfort, hope, or at least a distraction from the difficult reality. This particular piece, while excellent in its own right, just doesn't seem to hit the mark in that regard. Maybe at a different time, it would be more appropriate. But for now, we'll have to wait and see if something more fitting comes along. Later.

I read this book for a book club and the discussion was truly wonderful.

The plot beautifully weaves back and forth between the main character, Aldred Leith, a journalist writing about Japan after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and his friend, Peter Exley, who is working in Hong Kong.

Aldred's journey to Japan leads him to the home of the Driscolls, who are in charge of a house in the hills beyond Hiroshima. The Driscolls have two children, Benedict and Helen, who, in my opinion, form the very heart of the novel. Leith befriends them, gives them books to read, shares poetry, and gradually begins to love them both.

As I delved into the story, I felt as if I were completely immersed in the history of post-World War II and the war itself. The relationships and the characters' understanding of themselves and each other are so subtle and nuanced. I often found myself rereading entire pages, trying to truly understand how a character was feeling or where the relationship between two characters was headed. The breadth of the novel, both geographically and emotionally, is simply staggering. It's a book that I will definitely read again.

Spoiler alert...these passages were my notes about the book for the discussion. They may reveal more than some readers might want to know.

There's a wonderful premonition of the book which begins with Gardiner's advice to Leith about his new assignment and where he'll stay. Leith also describes his wife's suicide in 1943. He was in prison at the time, and his wife tried to join him. She tried to secure his writing and his books before taking her own life. "You keep returning to these things. You can't close them down as one secures the compartment of a damaged ship, just to keep the vessel going or at least afloat." He said, "This difficulty of being."

Leith's first meeting with Benedict Driscoll is also quite memorable, where he describes his trip across China. On page 27, Leith remembers Ginger who had said, "quite beautiful." It was true, the place itself, had it been de-Driscolled, was a paradise.

There are many tender moments throughout the book. For example, on page 38, Leith astonishes himself with an impulse to take Helen in his arms, which, of course, he does not do. Yet some tenderness passes between them in reaction to the horror of the morning. The entire world, he thought, needs comforting.

Leith's response to Helen and Benedict's reaction, knowing that Driscoll would be important to his sister, is also significant. On page 40, it says, "Being in company was, that morning, a solace to all three of them, in each of whom the thought rose and fell: If we had done differently, the man might be alive."

On page 41, there's a tender moment between Helen and Benedict as they lie together, and he says, "You are thinking about what is to come."

On page 42, Leith writes to his friend Peter about his situation. He talks about how formidable Driscoll and his aide are and then says, "They have a frail and remarkable young son, and a little girl who is a changeling. I am thinking that a child can be born fastidious into cruelty and can hold to reason and a sense of justice. There is, thank God, no explaining this."

Leith's experience in Hiroshima on page 47 is also an important part of the story.

On page 99, he is aware that he has willed Peter's departure so that he can be by himself and need not speak further. There is no irritation in this; only a need for perspective. (If Peter had to save L's life it would be quits. A relief to both.)

On page 105, Leith's sense of ambition in the face of so many who longed for a house and a garden or the cliffs of Dover is described. The women, to be married. Then they could die happy. He was different and fell in love with art and travelled to see it.

On page 108, his scruples are discussed. Scruple was a tiny measure, used perhaps by a jeweler or chemist. He had never dealt, in love or otherwise, in such minute quantities.

Also on page 108, there's an extraordinary description of Leith's father and his feelings for Peter, which he finds so uncomfortable. Then it says, "To live for, there was his new work, and the great works of others. As to a more poignant reason left to him for living, there had been, in Paris, the response of the French officer: Aucune (any)."

On page 109, Leith shares his feelings for Helen and Benedict.

On page 136, Leith might have said (to Slater, who is he?) "My work is of no interest to you, being in its way, a meditation. But reflectiveness is hateful to men mobilizing grievance."

On page 143, Helen thinks about her reaction to Tad's kiss, which pretty much disgusts her.

On page 172, he gets up to go, he said he would come that evening. They part as at some long separation. She said again, "We are so solemn." "I must get used to gladness," he said.

On page 173, one January night in Hong Kong, Peter Exeley realizes, as he passes under the arcades where, beside fine shops selling chocolate truffles and crystallized fruits...Peter realizes there is nowhere he would rather be. And that fact itself is happiness. He is aware that his deeper dreams might be considered exorbitant.

On page 197, there's a beautiful and deep passage about Rita going to sit by Peter Exley's side after he tries to save the tailor's ill child and gets polio. Peter is thinking about the way "people reconsume their experiences, over and over: memories, regrets, ideas, pleasures hurrying like caged mice."

There is so much more to this book that I could discuss, but these are just some of the highlights that stood out to me. The writing is truly beautiful and thought-provoking, and I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a good historical novel.

Oof.

One reviewer made a rather interesting comment. They said that this is the kind of book that has the power to make you think about a whole bunch of random things. Such as, "What should we have for dinner? Did I remember to take out the trash? I really should check my Facebook for something that might be *super* important. Also, how many chapters are left in this book? How many pages are there remaining? And what exactly did that last sentence say?"

Once I managed to make myself sit down without any distractions, and with a deadline looming, to read this book, I did find myself starting to appreciate the language more. I was able to see more of the hidden layers within the story. However, it has to be said that it was not an easy read by any means. But I'm not complaining. I'm pretty sure that it was mainly my own fault for not being able to fully engage with it earlier.

I do hope that the book group doesn't decide to toss me out. I can't help but wonder what they'll think of my experience with this book.

This is the second time I have read this book. The first time was almost 20 years ago. From the reviews, it seems that this is a book that people either love or hate, with not much in between.

I am truly glad that I have read it again. It reaffirms my feelings that this is a superb piece of literature. It is a quiet and slow book. Hazzard's prose is so subtle, and her articulation is something we are not so accustomed to reading.

The narrative is written in the third person and commences in Japan after World War II. It follows the decorated British War veteran Aldred Leith, who is writing a book and traveling through Asia at the end of one war and the beginning of another.

At the center is a love story, told with such beauty and sophistication. I savored each sentence and found it truly hypnotic. The way Hazzard weaves the story, the descriptions of the settings, and the development of the characters all contribute to making this a remarkable read. It is a book that lingers in your mind long after you have finished reading it.

I'm not truly excited about this book.

I read it as I once discovered it on a "must read classics" list. However, I also read that Shirley Hazzard is a writer who perhaps thinks a bit too highly of her writing talent, which I believe was Stephen King's opinion. And that's precisely what I've gathered from this book. It needs to relax and tell a story. The long and beautiful phrases mentioned by a previous reviewer seem to be the very essence of what this book is about.

Oh, and there are some characters engaged in certain activities, but it all unfolds very slowly and not in a particularly exciting manner. Once again, I appreciate excellent writing, but I struggle with arrogant writing, and that's the impression I have of this work.

Maybe I'm missing something, but as of now, this book just doesn't do it for me. I expected more depth and excitement, but instead, I got a lot of flowery language and a rather sluggish plot.

I'll probably give Shirley Hazzard another chance in the future, but for now, this book is a bit of a disappointment.

This is an exquisitely written book that delves deep into the aftermath of war, told through the captivating story of one individual. Aldred Leith, an English gentleman and a war hero injured in the European theater during WWII, finds himself in 1947 Japan. Ostensibly, he is there to study the repercussions of the A-bomb in Hiroshima. However, his journey is far more complex. He has just completed a two-year walk-around of China, commissioned to write a book about the state of that country and its potential to lead to the next war.

In his thirties, Leith meets a teenage girl, Helen, and her twentyish brother who is suffering from Ataxia. They all end up living in a compound with their rather horrible parents. Leith is immediately drawn to these young people, especially Helen, and their presence weaves in and out of his life throughout the book.

This is just the starting point! The book offers an intimate understanding of the dislocation and disruption caused by war. It shows how a person's experiences and disorientation are magnified by it. Leith has tasks at hand, like writing the book about China, but he is also grappling with profound questions: who am I now? Where do I belong in the world? Who do I belong with? Through reminiscences, we learn a great deal about his past, and we speculate about the future along with him as he ponders where life will lead him.

There is an abundance of content packed into this book! There is a lot of movement, both literally and in the minds of the characters. And there are so many people to keep track of! At one point, Audrey Fellowes garners a lot of attention, and I found myself constantly asking, "Who the heck is Audrey Fellowes?!" I had to backtrack to find out. No wonder I had to abandon the audiobook and get a print copy. There was a lot of toing and froing for me too within the book. At times, I was exhilarated by the unfolding events, while at other times, I felt the book meandered. There was always a sense of foreboding in Leith's speculations about his future. The ending seems to resolve some of his questions, but can we truly trust that things have been settled? Nevertheless, the ending was satisfying, leaving me to play out possible scenarios even after finishing the book.

My favorite bookish podcast had an early episode on The Great Fire, which was a delight to listen to. Listening to it made me realize that Hazzard created a powerful sense of dislocation and disorientation in the reader through her writing style. We not only see it but feel it viscerally. It's truly brilliant!

Why I'm reading this: This is the September group read for the 21st Century Literature group.

I remember having a certain fondness for this book.

But when I perused the synopsis just now, it was as if my mind had wiped clean any recollection of it.

So, while it might have been a passable read at the time, for some, it fails to make a lasting impression.

Despite all the accolades it has received, I simply cannot bring myself to recommend it.

However, I would most likely give Shirley Hazzard's works another chance.

I suspect that perhaps my experience with this particular book was an anomaly, and that her other writings might offer a more engaging and memorable reading experience.

Nonetheless, based on my current recollection of this book, I must unfortunately refrain from suggesting it to others.

Maybe with time and a second reading, my opinion might change, but for now, this is where I stand.

Absolutely beautiful. Kindness, generosity, gentleness, strength. These are the words that instantly spring to mind when I think about this remarkable book. I truly cherished every single sentence within its pages. And the characters of Leith, Helen, and Ben will forever stay with me, etching their way into my heart and memory.

I first had the pleasure of reading this book way back in 2005. It had such a profound impact on me that I was deeply moved. Recently, while browsing through the dollar shelf, I was pleasantly surprised to come across it again. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I knew I had to revisit that feeling I had experienced over 10 years ago. I am so glad that I did. It was like reuniting with an old friend and rediscovering all the wonderful qualities that made me fall in love with it in the first place.

Plotless and at times poetic, terminally self-serious and devoid of humor, this lifeless “love story” seemingly follows the stations of Hazzard’s own biography. However, it does so in a frequently meandering and aimless fashion.

The writing style is ambitious yet somewhat lugubrious, self-consciously elevated to a kind of stilted mid-century Etonese. The characters essentially do not exist as they all speak in the same register as Hazzard’s narrative voice. It is nearly impossible to care for any of these sock puppets into whose mouths Hazzard pours identical “voices.” In effect, the quotation marks are meaningless barriers between narration and dialogue.

At the end of the day, despite all of Hazzard’s linguistic pyrotechnics such as “acetylene galaxies” and “acetylene constellations,” I could not get past the lack of meaningful character definition and the general absence of any actual story. The story seems to be more about showing off the author’s language skills rather than telling a captivating tale. It fails to engage the reader on an emotional level and leaves one feeling unfulfilled.