Old Favourites, Recalled
Frances reminded me of an old favourite: John Fowles. At one time, I read all his novels, drawn to the fine writing and the singular voice he carried across his work. The book that stands out most vividly in recollection is Daniel Martin, a novel that felt, even then, like an encounter rather than a story. I have noticed the appearance of new editions, but find myself tempted instead by the idea of first editions, worn by time and touched by the earlier air of their making.
Fowles is not the only former companion calling to be reread. Joseph Heller, too, waits in the distance. It is Something Happened that I recall most fondly: a perceptive, genuinely funny book, one that held up an unsparing mirror and made the reflection somehow bearable. One day, I will return to them both.
Funny, I am just re-reading Daniel Martin. Because I am, I typed in Fowles’ name into your search box, and here we are. Thank you for many hours of reading pleasure, both from your blog and your book recommendatioons.
Thank you, Harvey, I am delighted you’ve found pleasure as a consequence of my blog.
I reread Heller, but have yet to get around to rereading Fowles, of whose work I have many happy memories.