This is the book that my sisters recommended-one of several with the same title. Born in Elmira, Ontario, in 1944, the author has since lived in London, Ottawa, Belleville, Kenya, the Philippines, and two places in southern France as she followed her husband around the world. In addition, she has had several visits to Tasmania.
The writing is lyrical as she muses about the meaning of the endless useless objects that she collects. More nostalgic, sentimental and introspective than almost anyone I ever met, there are keen insights and musings about relationships. There may be a remote connection to my mother. She mentions that her mother was Catherine Innis McLennen; my mother’s maiden name was also McLennen and there are some other hints as the geography and time period fits. Her extensive travels around southwestern Ontario brought back fond memories of my similar travels.
The description of her travails in the never-ending fixing up her ancient home in southern France adds humour with their inept contractors. There will be no difficulty keeping the characters straight but in the latter sections of the book it becomes less autobiographical and less related to her own experiences.
There is nothing very profound in this story and she never discusses her own beliefs and philosophy, but seems to consider the whole world her home. Although I could not relate to many of the places she dwells on, there is little doubt that she would be a most entertaining dinner guest.
6.5/10
Thanks, Isla and Lois.
The Passionate Reader 