As soon as I began this novel, I began to despair at how slim the volume felt in my hands, because this is the kind of read one hopes will last for many hours.
Right from the outset, the plot and tone of the novel are established and remain consistent throughout – and right from the outset, clearly, I was charmed. A farmer’s wife in East Anglia writes to an archaeologist in Denmark, Professor Glob, about the Tollund Man, an exhibit in Silkeborg Museum which Professor Glob was responsible for excavating and studying. She receives a reply from the curator of the museum, Anders, informing her the professor has passed away, and answering some of her questions. A correspondence springs up between them.
The entirely novel is formed of letters between Tina Hopgood and Anders Larsen. The beauty of the novel is in the slowly growing relationship between them, the formal start – the address of each other as Mr Anders and Mrs Hopgood, and then slowly by first names, and the salutations which later become Dear, Dearest, and My Dearest as well as the ending of letters, with Thank yous, best wishes, warmest wishes, to Love always. The two are slightly formal at first, taking no liberties, deliberated in their writings, but slowly thaw in each other’s understanding and company, and grow intimate in what they share. The letters help each to find themselves, and also provide companionship of such a delicate and considered nature, that it is always a moving read, from beginning to end.
In the course of the exchanges, they take on board their own cultures and habits, as well as personalities. In the letters, we come to know their lives, loved ones, and losses. They develop their own codes and symbols, as all relationships do, and move from communicating by post to e-mail attachments. Part of the charm lies in their age group, which is less casual in communication than youth communication – taking great care that each step meets with the other’s approval and comfort, not taking for granted or assuming permission. The texture of their relationship makes this such a lovely read, all showing and no telling. The way they take great care in reading to and responding to each other’s letters, is perhaps the antidote to today’s rush of communications and carelessness in how many of these communications are handled.
It is always also rather sweet how Anders tries so hard to get his already-perfect English even more perfect:
He was a man who was aloof and austere. (I have looked these words up, I hope you will like them),
p140-141
Aloof and austere are good words. I like them.
p142
Anders buys a bigger dictionary to try to get things just right; which is one of the many clever ways the author gives us some of her insights into these reserved but communicative characters.
Thank heavens Youngson has already published another book – that partly comforts me for the brevity of this book. But it is exactly as long as it should be. And its ending is also entirely as it should be. How many books can one say that of?
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