I wonder if it was just wishful thinking that made me pull this book off the shelf, Philip Larkin's A Girl in Winter. On a September day with temperatures in the 90s winter sort of sounds appealing.
"There had been no more snow falling during the night, but because the frost continued so that the drifts lay where they had fallen, people told each other there was more to come. And when it grew lighter, it seemed that they were right, for there was no sun, only one vast shell of cloud over the fields and woods. In contrast to the snow the morning would have resembled a January nightfall, for what light there was seemed to rise from it."
Brr. I feel colder already. Okay, so maybe not really. Not being much of a poetry reader, I knew Philip Larkin had written a couple of novels, but didn't realize he is much better known (perhaps quite famous?) for his poetry. I've also learned Larkin was a professional librarian. He had a few other interesting proclivities and bad habits, but it feels unfair to dwell on those when I'm unfamiliar with his work and have only just had a quick peek at his personal life. The book caught my eye on the shelf and that's all that should matter if the story is appealing and the prose as elegant as it appears. That's enough for me to bring it home and then it's a matter of the story selling itself.
"Philip Larkin's second novel was first published in 1947. This story of Katherine Lind and Robin Fennel, of winter and summer, of war and peace, of exile and holidays, is memorable for its compassionate precision and for the uncommon and unmistakable distinction of its writing."
It's been called "One of the finest and most sustained prose poems in the language"-- not surprising since he dedicated himself to poetry after the publication of this, his last, novel. It is still in print and is on the Guardian's 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read list. Judging by the many four and five star reviews in Goodreads it's highly regarded and a book I should probably try to read before it needs to go back to the library.