feather_ghyll: Tennis ball caught up at mid net's length with text reading 15 - love (Anyone for tennis?)
I have been watching the Olympics, but to a much lesser degree than was the case in 2012, because of the time difference. It took me a little while to realise that I could catch some of the sports – there had been so much emphasis on how the premium athletics would be on in the wee small hours.

But after a couple of days, Read more... )

Styx and Stones: Carola Dunn

This is an ultimately breezy mystery for Daisy to solve (with help) and was most interesting for me because of Read more... )
feather_ghyll: Close-up of white flower aganst dark background (Black and white flower)
Earlier this week, I finished Sheridan Morley's biography of Katharine Hepburn. I must have started it in December. I'd nearly finished it but didn't take it with me on Christmas holidays (and then I couldn't find where I'd left my copy.)

There are probably more in-depth biographies, because if I had to summarise it in one word, it would be 'breezy'. Still, it was interesting to learn how her career developed, to see how she prevailed through critical disapproval and popular lack of interest,
feather_ghyll: Close-up of white flower aganst dark background (Black and white flower)
I did mean to post soon after the Davis Cup weekend, as I'd seen bits of the doubles match and then Murray beating Querrey but never got around to it.

Since then, I've read Don't Judge a Girl by her Cover by Ally Carter, the third book in the Gallagher Girls series. Read more... )

The next book I read will be a girls own one, it's just a matter of choosing one from the pile!
feather_ghyll: Lavendar flowers against white background (Beautiful flower (lavender))
The Winter Garden Mystery: Carola Dunn Robinson 2009

It’s been a while, almost a year and a half, since I read the first Daisy Dalrymple book – click on the author’s tag for the review – and taken longer than I’d have liked to read this one.

The Hon. Daisy Dalrymple is off again, Read more... )
feather_ghyll: Black and white body shot a row of ballet dancers (Ballet girls)
Six Curtains for Stroganova: Caryl Brahms & S. J. Simon. Penguin 1953

This is the third in the series of books about the dreadful, wonderful Stroganov ballet company (previously discussed here. Read more... )

I'm also still slowly reading Blackie's Girls Annual. The last story that I read was 'The Proogle' by Alice M. Worthington, which had a great idea that it didn't exploit very well. It revolves around an object that the eldest daughter of a struggling but happy family buys as a gift at a mysterious second-hand shop. I have a weakness for mysterious second-hand shops. Read more... )
feather_ghyll: Tennis ball caught up at mid net's length with text reading 15 - love (Anyone for tennis?)
Read more... )

The first time I saw the advert for Wimbeldon, it was quite charming, but not so much the second. I fear that it'll get on my nerves over the next few days.

Also over the weekend, I read Fun Next Door by Freda M. Hunt, and it was quite fun. I felt as if it was a sequel (but the book didn't have those useful footnotes children's series have referring you to the title). Ann is living with strict and older relatives in the charmingly named village of Duckpuddle because her mother is sick. Fortunately for her, their neighbours, the Dakers, have children her age and run a school. At Pinetops, Ann does have the aforementioned fun (picnics turn into explorations and Ann becomes a budding ornithologist and also a cat-owner). What was most interesting is that one of the children living next door is Apple (short for Applegard!) the son of a famous Negro singer. The writer emphasises his Americaness more than his skin colour. My copy is from 1958 and it was first published in April 1953.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I haven't posted for a while, because I haven't read much for a while - the next book I'm going to write about was read in snatches. If nothing else, I'd like to change that this week, but then the tennis on TV season has begun, with the French and the distinctive thwap, thwap of the players getting the clay out of the grips of their shoes between points, so I may get distracted. At the beginning of last week, I managed to get home and either catch them listing the order of play for the next day or see the message that 'This stream has now finished', for yes, I have added the 'red button channel' to my favourites.

However, I have managed to see varying amounts of Ivanovic, Murray, Henin, Serena Williams, Djokovic, Nadal and Sharapova play. I hope that Murray starts getting easier matches or makes them easier matches. Djokovic's serve! Nadal was scarily good at times.

Under the Lilacs: Lousia M. Alcott Blackie

I bought this 12 years ago, because I am a completist, and having read the Little Women quartette, wanted more of Alcott's books. I'm glad I did to get Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom, but everything else hasn't been able to sustain my interest. I suspect that the main reason I never sat down and read this book properly was because it began with a doll's tea party. This time, because it was part of a pile of books that I AM going to read/reread (and make a judgment on whether I keep them or give them away) I began it last Sunday and finished it last night.

In brief, Read more... )
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I know it's been a while, perhaps this post will explain why. Having just finished her Touch Not the Cat, I was looking forward to reading Mary Stewart’s A Walk in Wolf Wood, but it took me about a week and a half to do so – this is odd for me, as I was reminded when I devoured the nest book that I read in two sittings, interrupted only by a night’s sleep. I didn’t have the same desire to read on with Wolf Wood. I’d force myself to read a chapter and put the book down, and although I was busy and tired from being busy since I begun the book, I had little compulsion to pick it up and read it until I was on a train and had finished my other reading material (newspaper, magazine). Now, I’ve read and reread (or would lapped up be more apt?) all of Stewart’s suspense novels for adults over the years – not the Arthurian novels though. Off the top of my head The Moon-Spinners and Nine Coaches Waiting would be my favourite. So, when I saw that she’d written a book for children, I was intrigued and bought it. I decided to read it having enjoyed rereading Touch Not the Cat (and there’s a whole other enjoyment in rereading it and not wondering who ‘Ashley’ is – I was puzzled and misdirected in the first read.

But having finished Wolf Wood, I won’t be going out of my way to purchase any more Stewarts for children.

Read more... )

I also managed to tear the dust jacket a little carting this book about when I wasn’t reading it.

In better news, after a bout of rummaging at my parents', I now have got hold of all my Dorothy L. Sayers and Annes and Emilys (so I can reread them) and found Toby of Tibbs Cross, which I knew I had bought and read, but had slipped beneath a bookcase that was itself blocked by boxes. I didn't whoop with joy, but I was grinning for quite a while.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I thought I'd mentioned beginning this, but I had it mixed up with the last annual I read, The Big Book of School Stories for Girls. The British Girl's Annual was 'compiled by the editor of Little Folks' and published by Cassell and Company Ltd in 1918.

I've been reading no more than a story a day, and actually less frequently than that, so I'm edging two thirds of the way through. I've just finished my second Violet Methley story, 'Her Wits' End', which is less noteworthy than the first of Methley's stories in the annual, 'A Daughter of the Legion'. Read more... )
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I'm currently dipping in and out of The Big Book of School Stories for Girls, edited by Mrs Herbert Strand and published by Humphrey Milford - the Oxford University Press. I've never been one to buy annuals and what-do-you-call-thems...anthologies? I prefer girls own stories in longer form, on the whole, and here's always the possibility of stories told in cartoon, which I'm not fussed about. However, it's not too bad, some of the stories have been amusing. The was a Dimsie story 'All Fools Day' (I don't know if it was written specially for this collection or not). It wasn't the pranks that Puck and co came up with so much as their reasoning.

I also love the illustrations, which seem to have been done by a variety of contributors. I forgot to mention when reviewing Torley Grange that while I appreciate Girls Gone By's habit of using the original art work, I didn't much like the cover. This will show my very limited appreciation of art, but I'm not sure that drawing schoolgirls as influenced by Edvard Munch's Scream with a jaundiced tinge, when you're not going for an Addams Family vibe is particularly attractive.

Anyhow, here are a couple of links that I've collected, mainly from trying to find information out about the writers I've recently been reading. I discovered (it must have been stated in the intro, but didn't sink in) that Torley Grange was Corutney's first book, which explains a few things and is rather impressive.

The University of Reading has her papers, there's a short bio here.

And this is an in-depth biographical article on Evelyn Smith by Hilary Clare for Folly magazine.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I was hoping to post my review of the film Inkheart, but it requires a bit more work than I have time for, and it may be a while in coming. Meanwhile, I bought four books yesterday (two Brazils, one of which I may own already, a Geoffrey Trease and a family book from a writer I didn't know of before. This was after picking up Clover by Susan Coolidge over the weekend. Say what you like about Oxfam's charity books shops, I do find my sort of books there.

I repeat, I bought Clover. I'm not sure how well known this fact is, but Susan Coolidge wrote a lot of sequels to her famous 'What Katy Did'. For years, I laboured under the misapprehension that it was a trilogy, and then, one day, I found 'In The High Valley' and discovered I was wrong.

The titles are: What Katy Did, What Katy Did At School, What Katy Did Next, Clover, In The High Valley.

As Katy grows up, the focus shifts to the younger Carrs. If nothing else, I will be rereading ITHV over Christmas.

Anyway,Read more... )

As I won't be posting again before then, A merry and peaceful Christmas to you all. I hope you get a chance to curl up with a good book!
feather_ghyll: Book shop store front, text reading 'wear the old coat, buy the new book.' (Book not coat)
Two days in a row did I stand in front of a locked door to a bookshop. If you're going to go to the effort of writing out your limited opening hours over a bank holiday weekend on a special poster, perhaps it would be a good idea to stick to them. Of course, for all I know, the shopkeeper is going through a personal crisis, but I was really disgruntled yesterday, having trawled through the charity shops, even an Oxfam bookshop, and found nothing except a book that I already owned, and had purposefully left this secondhand bookshop 'till last, thinking I'd find something there. I even went back today just before catching the train to come home in the hope that this time, the shopkeeper would stick to the times on the poster.

Perhaps the disgruntlement was compounded by the fact that I was reading May Baldwin's Peg's Adventures in Paris, which is a hysterical sub-sub-sub Villette for girls with an obnoxious protagonist and a fair bit of Anglo-Saxon bigotry. And it's a Schroedinger's cat thing, I know there were oodles of volumes I would have brought lying behind that locked door.

(Let's not get into how I lost a train ticket and had to buy another!)
feather_ghyll: Black and white body shot a row of ballet dancers (Ballet girls)
In the ideal world of my intentions, there would be full reviews of all these books, but I have to admit that, under current circumstances, there is no way that I can do them justice, so it's better to clear the desks with some quick overviews.

The Third Class at Miss Kaye's: Angela Brazil: I didn't realise when I read it quite how early a book this was, although I picked up on the references to (the lack of) plumbing and transport. In fact, it's only something like the second of Brazil's school stories, and comes off like The Fortunes of Phillippa meets For the Sake of the School. One of the more notable things about the story of how dreamy only child, Sylvia, becomes a normalised schoolgirl, is the role that the headmistress, Miss Kaye, plays. Brazil could have titled this The Third Class at Heathercliffe House, but the reference to Miss Kaye is crucial. She's in the wise Hilda Annersly mould and even more obviously influential - and a contrast to A Worth-while Term, which has a novice headteacher, somewhat in the mould of Madge Bettany, although author Judy Irwin come off the worst in any comparison with Brent-Dyer. For one thing, the book seems to be set in an alternate universe where the question mark was never invented.

Cicely, who is in her early twenties, inherits a school from a woman she befriended on a cruise during the outbreak of the second world war. As you do. Said friend didn't disclose that she was very sick to Cicely, who finds herself in charge of a small, select and slack school after said friend dies. Can she turn it around?

More entertaining, and surprising to me, was Mollie Chappell's Endearing Young Charms, which is a romance, though not that far removed from her books for older girls. I only knew Chappell as a children's writer - she comes off as somewhere between Oxenham and Streatfeild in tone, and this book certainly has charm. I'll be looking out for more of her romances.

Also amusing was Jane Shaw's Fourpenny Fair. Penny's a heroine by accident, her kind heart not being married with much sense, and her accidents are usually pretty funny. Even funnier was A Bullet in the ballet by Simon and Brahms, hence the icon. Definitely not a children's book, it's a comic murder mystery, with Inspector Quill of Scotland Yard trying to solve a murder, which of course becomes a series of murders, with the hinderance of the Stroganov Ballet Company, who live ballet, breathe ballet and try to be helpful to the nice police inspector who has never seen even the most well-known ballets and is trying to find the assassin of the ballet dancers who can breathe no more. By the end, I was literally roaring with laughter, you know, loud, hearty laughter. This is the first in a series and I'll be looking out for the rest.

Ethel Talbot's Ranger Rose was fortunately not terrible (which Talbot can be), but slight in some ways, although it's theme and Rose's journey were trying to tackle big issues. Weird ending though, and disappointing handling of the big final scene.

Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging is out in the cinemas this week. I won't be going to see it, despite having read the first two books, which I didn't find that funny. Coming soon is Emma 'Nancy Drew' Roberts in Wild Child, where a Malibu brat is sent to an English boarding school, where her dead father used to play quidditch her dead mother used to play lacrosse. The trailer looks as though it's trying for something between the Paris Hilton/Nicole Ritchie TV show, the Trebizon books and the recent St Trinian revamp, which I avoided. Unless if the reviews change my mind, which I doubt, I'll be avoiding this too.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I'm posting this so that I have a clean slate for the next book that I want to review. Here’s what I’ve been doing lately that might be of interest…

The Youngest Sister is typical Bessie Marchant, a girl’s coming of age in an exotic local with a smidge of romance and an attempt at Romance in the old-fashioned sense. Although her heroine criss-crosses across the vastness of Canada, you’d think that only half a dozen people lived there because she keeps coming across the same folks. There’s some mildly interesting character stuff about the eponymous heroine’s attempt to make up for a life where she let her (apparently) more capable sisters do everything for her, but BM feels the need to have peril or disaster strike in EVERY. SINGLE. CHAPTER. Which gets tiresome.

I have forgotten everything I ever learned about Canada and flying in the 50s or 60s, which is a shame because teaching me that stuff was the sole point of Shirley Flight, Air Hostess in Canadian Capers. Spectre Jungle by Violet Methley featured a bunch of really hard-to-like snots, racing against an American adversary in Borneo to find a mysterious simian - the spectre of the title.

More PC was Tangara by Nan Chauncy, which didn’t quite pull off its rather familiar trick of having a twentieth-century girl be able to slip through time and relive the experiences of another white girl, who befriended a Tasmanian Aboriginal girl, just before her people were massacred. Speaking of history, The Wind Blows Free teaches us what use can be made of cow pats (it’s a bit Little House on The Prairie).

I’ve also been reading The Crackerjack Girls’ Own. I don’t normally like these annuals – I like longer stories, where narrative covers up perfunctory writing, but it was cheap and featured a story by Anne Bradley. It turned out to be a pleasant enough collection to read before going to sleep – which isn’t how I normally read books, I’m far too likely to end up reading until the wee hours otherwise.

I read Mistress Pat, the sequel to Pat of Silver Bush. Poor Jingle. Montgomery had to do something REALLY, REALLY DRASTIC to get Pat out of her stubborn rut. I think one of the problems with these two books is weird choices in terms of the passing of time. (They’re also overshadowed by better things she’s done – the Annes, Emilys and Blue Castle.)

Angela Brazil’s Schoolgirl Kitty features an arty family that loses a mother and goes to France. This gives AB a chance to lecture on Art, and provide some ‘exotic’ drama (this being quite a few decades before Spectre Jungle and Shirley Flight).

I read four Miss Silver mysteries in quick succession; I have a fifth to read but I’m a little tired of the formula, so I’m putting it off. It’s always like that with the Miss Silver books, either feast or famine in terms of seeing them on the shelves of shops.

Blue for a Girl was a (somewhat scattershot) account of the Wrens’ history in world war 2. While writing about the Admiralty et al’s sexism, the male writer displays his own chauvinism. I felt that the book was written for people in the inner circle too. I’d have preferred it if it had been more rigorous chronologically, instead of having chapters based on theme, with the writer changing direction unexpectedly every few paragraphs.

Cinemawise, I watched The Spiderwick Chronicles, which was based on a book that was influenced by other fantasy books. A modern family, flirting with dysfunction, meets old-fashioned (but well-rendered) faerie folk – although the troll was rubbish. There were problems of scale. I hardly ever believed that the whole wide world as the kids knew it was in danger, and I couldn’t but compare it unfavourably with The Neverending Story

Nim’s Island could have been based on a book – I don’t think it was – with its theme of a storyteller lying within us all and it being a lonely person’s way of reaching out. It wasn’t a very good film though.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I've read several children's books over the past few weeks, but I'm not in a position to type up full reviews at present, so here are some one-sentence responses. The Potato Riddle by Agnes and Norman Furlong was a boys' story, a change for me, and definitely operating by a different set of rules to the one I'm used to, which may have been a factor in how entertaining I found it i.e. novelty. Pamela at Peters' by Edna Lake flubs its central mystery horribly, ignoring the gun in the first act rule, but is otherwise a tight story with a new girl and a secret society fighting for a school's honour. Dimsie, Head Girl by DFB is the real deal though. Yes, the title makes the first half mildly irritating as you wait for the story to catch up and for Dimsie to step into the biggest shoes a schoolgirl heroine can, all to save the Jane Willard Foundation from drift - actually, there's a thematic sympathy between those last two books.

Then I read Plough Penny Mystery by Lavinia L. Davis, which features younger characters over a summer, and offers a genuinely perceptive character study in the shadow of the second world war. Catrin in Wales by Mabel Esther Allen is what you'd expect from MAE, first person narrative, coming of age story with romance amidst friendships, good on local detail - although there was something in there about a play about a Welsh valley being drowned performed in Liverpool that the sixties (Tryweryn) rendered a howler.

Finally, there was something in the news a few days ago about land girls and lumberjills (a term I'd never come across before) finally getting recognised for their war work by the UK Government. How? Badges. How very Blue Peter. (I'm not sure how tongue in cheek I feel about this).
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
Yesterday, I told myself that I really needed to cool down on the book-buying front, as I have piles of unread titles to go through. I came home with four purchased books and one borrowed book. Oops. One of them was a children’s book, two of them were books I already have copies of – one of those purchases were intentional, I wanted a better copy of an Austen, in the other case, I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d bought a copy or not, and 65p was worth the risk.

Over the weekend, I read the last of the ‘Hay haul’, a book I bought in April:

The Saturday Club: Elizabeth Leitch. Blackie.

This is going to be an overview, not a full-blown review. Read more... )

Meanwhile, what on earth is going on in tennis?
feather_ghyll: Book shop store front, text reading 'wear the old coat, buy the new book.' (Book not coat)
The weekend before last weekend - sorry, this post has been one of the things I've never got round to sitting down and finishing until now - I saw a copy of 'Amberwell' by D. E. Stevenson with a dust jacket. As it was in a second-hand book shop, I didn't even pick it up, let alone look at the price. I have a hardback of my own, one that I bought thinking it was a children's book, perhaps if it had had a dust jacket I'd have been disabused of the notion. At first, the story is about a generation of children living in a house named Amberwell, but it follows them as they grow up and lead lives that would have been difficult even without the outbreak of the second world war, and, in fact, adult problems and mistakes blight their childhoods anyhow. So it's not a children's book at all. I was probably too young for it when I read it, because the bitterness and disappointments that the characters faced, and, maybe, the lack of a clear protagonist threw me. I read the sequel several years later and that may have been too long a wait, I'd reread 'Amberwell' at least once since, and 'Summerhills' felt like a different novel, and it lacked the focus on a place, although it did resolve some of the unfinished strands of the first book.

My favourite Stevenson book - so far, I've only read a handful of hers, and annoyingly haven't seen any new-to-me copies lately - is 'Miss Buncle's Book', which doesn't have that twist of, well, bitterness that's in 'Amberwell'. It's about a spinster and the village that she lives in. Our heroine Barbara is neither young nor middle aged, IIRC, and loves her village, but has something in her that can make her see it with a slightly removed perspective. And so she starts to write a book about it, a shadow narrative about the village's life, that imputes motives and expands mysteries, not nastily, because Barbara Buncle is a darling. But the story grows in the telling, as stories do, and contains a fantastical element - and has to be published. Once it is, Barbara in a tricky position. She's changed in the writing of her book and the book has changed her village.

It's altogether charming, I loved the book-within-a-book aspect and insight into the writing process. I've read one of the sequels, which isn't so much lesser as feeling quite different. Sequels that revisit characters' lives are a trait of Stevenson's (who, yes, is related to Robert Louis), so although not all the books are linked in an Oxenham or Brent-Dyer way, you do sometimes get the opportunity to find out what happened next. It's apt that not all the books are linked, some of them are quite different - you never know how light the mood will be with her, but their setting is always important.

Last weekend too, I reread 'Ballet Shoes', which was fun (particularly Posy's monomania for ballet). I was going to review it, but my notes were a little harsh. The thing is, I can't remember when I did read 'Ballet Shoes' first, but I suspect I was a teenager and not a child, so I didn't grow up with it, and the ballet dancer I took to heart young was Veronica Weston, and the young performers, the enterprising Blue Door theatre group. As such, even the first time I read Ballet Shoes, I was probably distanced, which is partly why I didn't empathise with any of the Fossils exactly, and found them a little quaint because there's this mix of the ordinary and the extraordinary. Usually, difference of period or location doesn't phase me but this time it did, especially their genteel poverty (oh, Gum, you selfish man!). Also, I'd have liked more detail on the ballet school's life, although I know that the story's about the Fossils, their family circle and their lodgers. I've also got 'The Painted Garden' (there's a mention of 'The Secret Garden' in 'Ballet Shoes', was it Streatfeild's favourite book?) to read, now there's a book I ought to reread, ('The Secret Garden') though I don't know if I have a copy.

What I suppose I'm getting at is how much subjective experience informs whether I take a book to heart. It all depends so much on what books are available in your childhood, in libraries or in shops, and whether your reading age is a bit beyond your actual or emotional age (or if you're reading something pitched younger, whereas if I had read 'Ballet Shoes' when I was closer to the girls' age, it might be one of my favourite books). Of course, there are other reasons to love books, and this blog is all about books that transcend reading age.

A D.E Stevenson page and another.
feather_ghyll: Girl reading a book that is resting on her knees (Default)
I'm not quite sure what to call the subgenre that Sally Baxter and her ilk belong to (grandmother: Cherry Ames), which is part career girl story, part mystery tale. They're nearly always published by World Distributors, so they have a similar 'look', especially if the dust jacket is intact. Other examples are Vicky Barr, Shirley Flight and Sara Gay. These series feature unmarried girls, but usually from traditional families, with jobs that take them all over the world (Cherry does almost every kind of nursing she can, Sally is a reporter, Vicky and Shirley flight attendants and Sara a model). They're part-time sleuths, as they come across mysteries wherever they go and because they feature in serial stories, they need to do well at their careers for a long time, even if their attention is sometimes divided.

The heroines of straight-up career girl stories, may feature a mystery subplot, but they are much more about depicting the demands of a job for their readers. 'Kate in Advertising' by Ann Barton, Joanna in Advertising by Stella Dawson, and Marjorie Riddell's 'A Model Beginning' and 'Press Story' are some examples from my bookshelves. Somewhat unrealistically, they usually end with the heroine getting engaged and the likely outcome is that she will give up her job for marriage and motherhood. So why do I call them career girl stories? Well, they still work as an intro to the career rather than being about the romance. And I may be over-generalising there. Not all end like that.

However, the serial stories subvert this, most interestingly in the Cherry Ames series, and they're somewhat anti-romantic. The heroines are shown as attractive and likeable, and with plenty of dates on call, but they never say yes to proposals. The audience for these stories is slightly older than 'A Crime for Caroline', obviously, although, again, who am I to talk, still reading them, many years after I came across my first Cherry Ames? And that doesn't even consider the influence of Nancy Drew, although sleuthing is her hobby-career (she doesn't need the money, but she does need the challenge). But in the days when the series started, why, going to college was what boys do! (It'll be interesting to see how the new movie handles this).

Sally Baxter, like Shirley and Sara (oh, they all start with S's) is a very English character. (As is nurse Jean, who has four books and two authors to tell her tale, but she isn't published by World distributors). The book which brought this on, Sally Baxter--Girl Reporter and the Holiday Family by Sylvia Edwards, starts off when Sally gets sent on a summer stunt to improve the circulation of her paper, the Evening Cry. The paper pays for a family already visiting a seaside resort (how very British) and voted for democratically to have their dream holiday. This upgraded holiday is then covered by Sally. Of course what she ends up reporting is a series of catastrophes for the first holiday family, who turn against her and go back home until she can uncover who is behind the ir misfortunes and why. (Let us just say that the story is really of its time and leave it there.)

ETA: Related links can be found here.
feather_ghyll: Tennis ball caught up at mid net's length with text reading 15 - love (Anyone for tennis?)
One other Ethel Talbot down (The Foolish Phillimores), one to go (Sally at School). The Foolish Phillimores wasn’t as bad as Diana the Daring, probably because of my lowered expectations as much as the merit of the tale. The abuse of the ellipsis still remained a problem, but at least the story didn’t go where I was afraid that it would, after suffering Diana’s mix of inverted snobbery and the other kind.

Read more... )

Now I talk about non-fictional tennis )


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