You have to be fascinated by the times or you will not be fascinated by this book.

This statement holds a certain truth. Our era is filled with countless unique characteristics and rapid changes. The events, technologies, and social phenomena that occur in our times shape our perspectives and interests.

If a person is not intrigued by the happenings and developments of the era, it becomes difficult for them to engage deeply with a book that reflects or explores those aspects.

For example, a book that delves into the impact of artificial intelligence on society may not capture the attention of someone who has no interest in the technological advancements of our time.

On the other hand, those who are fascinated by the times are more likely to be drawn to books that offer insights and interpretations of the world around them.

They seek to understand the forces that are shaping our society and are eager to explore different viewpoints and ideas.

In conclusion, being fascinated by the times is often a prerequisite for being fascinated by a book that is relevant to our era.

Loved it.

Fascinating.

This simple yet powerful statement holds a world of meaning. When we say "loved it," it implies a deep sense of affection and enjoyment. It could refer to a book that captured our imagination, a movie that touched our hearts, or an experience that left us breathless.

The word "fascinating" further emphasizes the allure and captivation of whatever it is that we loved. It suggests that there was something about it that held our attention, something that made us want to learn more, explore further, and沉浸其中.

Perhaps it was the unique characters, the intricate plot, or the beautiful scenery. Maybe it was the innovative ideas, the thrilling action, or the emotional depth. Whatever it was, it had a profound impact on us and left us with a lasting impression.

Loved it. Fascinating. These two words sum up the essence of a truly remarkable experience. They remind us of the power of art, entertainment, and life to touch our souls and make us feel alive.

Irritating.

I wish I could remember why this was on my TBR. Apparently, it was added at the end of 2010. I seem to recall that one of the main characters and this book was mentioned in another book I read. However, a quick look at the books I read in 2010 doesn't shed any light on this.

Anyway, I couldn't see any point in this book for the general public. Without all the facts, nothing was really revealed that could have been shocking by the standards of the time. It seemed rather平淡 and uneventful.

The only reason this is a two-star review and not a one-star review is that I found the information about May Gaskell collecting books for service men interesting. It added a bit of a unique touch to the story. But overall, the book didn't really capture my attention or leave a lasting impression.

I'm not sure if I would recommend this book to others. It might be of some interest to those who are specifically interested in the topic of book collecting during that time period or in the life of May Gaskell. But for the average reader, it might not be worth the read.

Strangely compelling, this work offers a unique and fascinating look into a particular period of time.

I would highly recommend it for my Anglophile friends who are eager to gain a more personal perspective on the cusp between the Victorian and Edwardian eras.

During this time, society was undergoing significant changes, and this book delves into the lives and experiences of the people who lived through it.

It provides a detailed and engaging account of the social, cultural, and political landscape of the time, as well as the personal stories and relationships of the individuals who inhabited it.

Whether you are a history buff or simply interested in learning more about this fascinating period, this book is sure to captivate and inform you.

So, if you have Anglophile friends who are looking for a new and interesting read, be sure to recommend this book to them. They are sure to thank you for it!

I found the story and certain aspects of the family history quite engaging. However, my major concern lies in her excessive use of rhetorical questions, as Kathryn Hughes also pointed out. They seem overly theatrical and create the anticipation that something conclusive will be disclosed. Regrettably, this is not always the case. I'm rather conflicted. The book is interesting, yet I desired more content related to the Pre-Raphaelites.

From Kathryn Hughes' review of A Profound Secret.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2004...

Are these persistently rhetorical questions irritating? They pale in comparison to the countless unanswered inquiries that Dimbleby presents throughout this breathless book. In fact, chapter four concludes with three consecutive ones, the last of which urgently asks, "Was it melodramatic of me to wonder if [Burne-Jones] could have had a premonition of [Amy's] fate?" At this moment, one feels compelled to leap into the text and stomp on the question marks until they are defeated, no longer able to perform their annoying trick of suggesting openness while stubbornly refusing to direct the argument in any specific direction.

Josceline Dimbleby has long been one of Britain's most beloved food writers. However, "A PROFOUND SECRET" marks a departure for her.

It is the captivating tale of how an old portrait served as the catalyst for her to delve deeper into her family's past, uncovering a plethora of secrets and mysteries. The portrait in question was of her great-aunt Amy Gaskell, painted by the renowned Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones.

As a young girl, Josceline was led to believe that her great-aunt had passed away at a young age due to a broken heart. Determined to learn more, she embarked on a journey that led to the discovery of a box of secret love letters between the famous artist and Amy's mother, May. Shockingly, both were married to other people at the time.

Josceline also unearthed the tragic truth behind Amy's early demise. This book is not only about the revelations she made but also about the process of her search. Thus, it is both a thrilling detective story and a poignant account of a clandestine love affair.

The story concealed behind one of Burne-Jones' eerie portraits is, in and of itself, truly haunting. Even years after having delved into it, I find myself still referring to the people and places vividly described within the book. This particular novel belongs to that exclusive category which, upon reaching its conclusion, leaves you with a sense of mild disorientation and a profound longing for the characters and settings that have become so familiar. It is executed with great finesse. Indeed, this is "one of those books" that linger in your mind long after you have turned the final page, etching an indelible mark on your literary consciousness.

I have a deep affection for the Victorian period.

It is truly a captivating era that holds a special allure for me.

The genealogy of this time is not only fascinating but also feels incredibly intimate.

Exploring the family trees and connections of the Victorian people gives us a unique glimpse into their lives, values, and social structures.

We can trace the lines of inheritance, the rise and fall of families, and the impact of historical events on their genealogical narratives.

The Victorian period was a time of great change and progress, and the genealogy of this era reflects those dynamics.

It is a rich and complex tapestry that invites us to delve deeper and uncover the hidden stories and secrets of the past.

I find myself constantly drawn to the Victorian period and its genealogy, eager to learn more and discover the many wonders that lie within.

It's truly a challenge to reach a definitive conclusion about this book. On one hand, it makes more pledges than it can fulfill. However, for those intrigued by the intricate web of relationships and interests within Victorian and Edwardian society, it is filled with valuable insights.

Essentially, it is the biography of the author's great-grandmother May Gaskell, interwoven with the histories of May's family, especially highlighting her daughter Amy, who passed away at a young age. It also chronicles the author's pursuit to uncover the mystery behind Amy's death. But alas, she doesn't succeed. All she is left with is speculation, which will surely disappoint readers who crave conclusive endings.

Nevertheless, what the author does bring to light, perhaps for the first time, are the love letters from the pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones to May. Given that he often penned several letters a day to her, we only get a tantalizing peek into their correspondence. EBJ was an engaging writer who frequently illustrated his letters with amusing cartoons of himself, those he knew, and various humorous subjects. Digitizing these letters would无疑 be a great boon to Victorian scholars.

May and EBJ likely didn't have a physical affair, not least because of the significant age difference when they met. But Dimbleby's account strongly implies that this was the love of May's life, if not necessarily for the married Burne-Jones. He seemed to have a penchant for falling in love with young and intelligent society women.

However, Burne-Jones passes away halfway through the book, and the focus then shifts to Amy. She appears to have wandered the world without her soldier husband, attracting men's affections. Was she truly the angel her family depicts, or simply a willful and bored socialite who ultimately resorted to drugs? She was an early advocate of what we now call the selfie and is often featured in the book in carefully posed photographs. The one on the cover shows a teenage Amy in a rather daring and provocative swimsuit pose. Her obsession with her own beauty, which might have been inherited from her mother, could have stemmed from being painted by Burne-Jones at the age of nineteen.

It's also a story of unhappy marriages, with the possible exception of Amy's much younger sister Daphne. She married one of Amy's former admirers. If you view this book as a family memoir, it offers a fairly interesting snapshot of an era. But if you're seeking a profound secret, you might be left disappointed. Still, it does have a great title.

I found myself in a rather odd position when I reached around page 150 of this book. I simply couldn't bring myself to endure any more of Edward Burne-Jones's unhinged ravings to his supposed muse, May Gaskell. Burne-Jones had initially asked May to destroy all of his correspondence, believing she had done so. However, when Dimbleby discovered a cache of this correspondence in the possession of May's kinsman, she was determined to turn it into a book.

In my opinion, Burne-Jones's reputation remained intact despite these revelations. May Gaskell, on the other hand, was still just the subject of some lovely photographs. The fact that May Gaskell would hold onto such drivel speaks volumes about the difficulties faced by many Victorian women who tried to lead meaningful lives in a male-dominated world. However, I don't think May Gaskell was the best example of this type of Victorian woman.

Meanwhile, Dimbleby failed to fully develop some of the truly remarkable stories from her family's history. Just imagine what a novelist could do with the suppressed romance of May Gaskell's parents, whose nuptials were prohibited and postponed for years. What about documenting the story of May's brother, Willie Gaskell, who was sent off as a young man to fend for himself in Argentina? I really craved more details about his struggles and ultimate success away from the Gaskell family. Finally, there was May's son, Hal, who cultivated his own artistic skills and was part of the bohemian circle of Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. It seems to me that Hal's creative life is just begging to be developed into a story.

If I've overlooked something in the remaining 200 pages of this book, I encourage other readers to correct me.

This review is not an endorsement of amazon.com or any business owned by Jeff Bezos. The books for my reviews were either borrowed from a public library, purchased from a local brick-and-mortar bookshop, or ordered from my favorite website for rare and out-of-print books.

I really enjoyed reading the book. However, I have to admit that I was somewhat put off by May's apparent preoccupation with her looks and her daughter.

Burne Jones, in a way, added fuel to the fire and made me feel rather uncomfortable at times. He seemed to be constantly in search of the fountain of youth through the faces and figures of young women. He idealized them in much the same way as he did fairy tales and Medieval legends.

As I reached the end of the book, I felt a sense of gloomy relief. It was as if I had finally emerged from a somewhat disturbing and yet captivating world that the author had created. The combination of May's self-absorption and Burne Jones' rather obsessive fixation on youth and beauty had left me with a complex and somewhat melancholy feeling.

Despite these aspects that I found less than appealing, the book still managed to hold my attention and engage my emotions. It made me think about the power of beauty, the role of women in society, and the allure of idealized images. Overall, it was an interesting and thought-provoking read.