The author provides an interesting view of what Kenya was like one hundred years ago when the British had just begun colonizing it. The book shows how different cultures and societies both collide and adapt when one side has no choice. The author, perhaps without the intention of doing so, documents the injustices imposed by colonialism on the native peoples and the assumption of cultural superiority by the colonizer.

Very interesting time and place described long after the fact as if she were the child of that time. The writing was sometimes a bit amateurish feeling. Things like so and so appeared over the horizon riding an ox wearing a skirt. Did they put skirts on oxen in those days? The most moving parts were clearly embellished after the fact, as they were not within the emotional realm of a six year old. Most entertaining for me were the references to Nairobi and Thika landmarks that have changed enormously. Her two day ox ride from the Norfolk hotel to the blue post, for example, is now a 45 minute drive on the Thika superhighway, though both hotels still operate.

I picked this book up randomly in a used book store without understanding how prolific or important Huxley was as a writer. As the back cover of my edition states, this is more of a re-creation than an exact account (along the lines of the Little House series), but, given her skill as a writer, I prefer the re-creation. (Although how this child happens to always just happens to be in a position to overhear adults carrying on their love affairs gets a little ridiculous about two-thirds in.) The tension between the white settlers and the African natives is also drawn with a detailed hand, but this is more due to her skill as a writer than any actual progressive attitude. Huxley may dwell on the ignorance of the natives when first confronted with paraffin lamps, but she dwells equally if not more on the ignorance of the settlers who try to farm from books and impose British "civilization" on those who do not need it. For her, to tell any other story would be to ignore the rich potential for drama. No doubt the same story from a Kikuyu POV would be very different, and no doubt plenty has been written on this issue by people more qualified than me. I read this book to get a flavor of the British colonial experience in Africa, and for this purpose, this book is perfect.

In 1971 I had the good fortune of spending six weeks studying in Kenya and Tanzania, some of the same places that the author lived and wrote about. Reading this book today, almost a century after it was written, the changes that have taken place are not only shocking but tremendously sad. Native Africans lived for centuries in the area, taking only what they needed to live on. The land belonged to all which is why the English (and other Europeans) felt that they could take whatever they wanted and "civilize" the area. Certainly this is not new (witness North America) but the consequences mean that we will never again see the spectacular wild areas that Elspeth and her parents experienced. Even in 1971 there were large herds of animals crossing the grassy savannahs, the air was so clear, you marveled at how many stars there were in those skies. Now the English have left, Kenya has the highest population growth in the world, trying to scratch out a living any way they can, leaving the earth barren and the wildlife gone. I've avoided going back to Africa for just these reasons; it would break my heart.

I LOVE this book. Have been trying to get everyone I know to read it. Don't know how I missed it all these years as it came out in 1959! Beautiful.

A beautiful memoir about Kenya in 1913. So much was so relevant to me; so much so recognisable. Equally, so much has changed in the past hundred years. It was interesting to observe what has stayed the same, and what is vastly different. I enjoyed this a lot more than Karen Blixen's more famous Out of Africa; it was wonderfully compelling, possibly because it was all seen through the eyes of a child, fascinated by the world in which she dwelt. I loved seeing the adults through her eyes, too. The description was marvellous, and I'd quote some if my copy of the book were not currently in Liverpool. How I love Kenya.

My mother gave me this book when we lived in Kenya, many years ago. For some reason, I never read it until now. It was a slow but charming memoir of Elspeth Huxley's life in colonial Kenya in the very early 1900's.

I'm not entirely sure what to make of this one, which has been on my to-read list for years and years. Huxley was young in the events of The Flame Trees of Thika: between six and eight, though her family later returned to Kenya, so this was not the real end of her time there. But Huxley does not write of a child's adventures and experiences. Her focus is much more on the dramas of the adults around her. This makes sense, perhaps; from the sounds of things, her life in Kenya didn't involve many other children, and the adults around her don't sound to have been all that interested in sheltering Huxley from their affairs (literal and figurative).

But it's still odd, a little like having A Spear of Summer Grass as told by a six-year-old. In many ways it feels like the story her parents would have told, not the one she would have understood at the time. Maybe it's just a style-of-the-times thing (the book originally being published in the 1950s), but it was a bit of a puzzle to me. How much of this did she learn after the fact, and how much did she remember, and how much of it just...felt like something that could have happened?

An interesting memoir with a fairly obvious flaw. The narrator is about six when this memoir starts, and it doesn't seem likely that she actually would remember all the things she talks about or even understands some of them, without allowing that after years had passed and things had been discussed at the kitchen table she had come to interpret some of the events.
That's what bugged me about the book. Other than that it is a fairly interesting memoir, set in an interesting time and place.

Elspeth tells the story of her childhood years as settler north of Nairobi. Her voice is mature and engaging because she observes relationships as a child with the prose of an adult. The land her father bought was raw Kenyan grassland among Kukuyu tribesmen and savanna animals. Time period was first years of 20th century and so much bustle has developed in those intervening century. She does a remarkable job describing the relationships between British settlers, what inspired them to make this leap to colonial Africa and how they fit into Kenya. She describes relations between men and women and between her and domesticated animals. She describes relationships between the Masai and Kukuyu and Dorobo tribes. Her tale ends as the Great War calls families to war both in Europe and against German East Africa.

The Huxley family interests me but I didn't learn anything about that lineage; instead, I was pleasantly surprised to obtain such a warm and unique perspective of African colonization.

From page one of The Flame Trees of Thika I knew I’d stumbled across an incredibly observant and eloquent writer. Huxley succeeds in helping the reader taste, smell and see Kenya at the beginning of the 20th century.

It was a stroke of brilliance to write this book from the point of view of a small child. Obviously the book’s descriptions and insights into human nature are far beyond the powers of a child to communicate, but the child-as-narrator was a powerful tool because the author was able to report the conversation and actions of the adults without judgment. The same was true for her descriptions of the different tribal peoples who worked on or near her father’s coffee plantation.

So why didn’t I love this book? My heart yearned for character development and found none. Although the book was clean, there were implications of several extramarital affairs. I was reminded of Kurtz in Heart of Darkness who became less and less civilized as he moved toward the heart of the jungle. Here again were people who seemed less restrained by societal mores the farther they moved from their home cultures.

Still, I will always remember Huxley’s description of a sunset as “rose, lemon and the color of flamingo’s wings”. I turned that phrase over in my mind for three whole days! Would-be writers should read this book as a lesson in writing fresh metaphors. With all the distractions we fight against today I’m wondering if ANYONE still pays attention to details like this author.

I enjoyed this book immensely. The story of a family and their life being cut out of raw African land, as seen through a child's eyes. The setting is early 20th century before WWI, about the same time Isak Dinensen was at her farm in the Ngong hills. Hardly roads or any comforts; all had to be done by the family. One important observation that struck me was how in this case the English, who came to bring culture, religion and government to the savages, were really upsetting the course of life of the continent that had been existing just fine since the beginning of time.