The Bookshop

by Penelope Fitzgerald

Paperback, 1997

Status

Available

Genres

Publication

Boston : Houghton Mifflin, 1997.

Description

The pettiness of an English seaside town. It is described by Florence Green, a middle-aged widow who buys a house for a bookshop, something the town has not had for over a century. Leading her enemies is Mrs. Gamart who wanted the house for an arts center.

User reviews

LibraryThing member EnriqueFreeque
NEWS ALERT: Indie bookshops are closing left and right at alarmingly rapid rates everywhere; in both big cities like Chicago and English villages like Hardborough, the latter the quaint setting for Penelope Fitzgerald's, Man Booker shortlisted, second novel, The Bookshop; they're being shut down, the bookshops, as if they were sweatshops run by misers, seemingly every time you scan the morning headlines in Shelf Awarenes.

Old news, bookstore closures? It wasn't old news in 1978, when Penelope Fitzgerald published The Bookshop, perhaps adding prescience to the poignancy already in glowing abundance in these bittersweet, but ravenously delectable pages about a courageous, recent widow's dream to do something (and to be somebody) different: Independent for the first time in her life: A bookseller. Brave woman.

Florence Green (a pity her last name is so descriptively apt concerning her business acumen), itching for adventure and a means of making her own way in the world for the first time since her husband's death, takes a huge, optimistic gamble, and opens her bookshop in a long-vacated, leaking, draughty and dilapidated, antiquated structure befitting its name - "The Old House" - in an English village with an ominous name of its own: Hardborough. Indeed it's hard starting up any business anywhere, but a bookshop in an establishment as rickety and sodden as the Old House? Can you imagine? Isn't dampness and draught anathema to pulp? Water-stained books are not fast sellers.

And isn't location everything too for a bookshop? Florence Green has chosen a site in an everybody-knows-everybody hamlet that has one unpaved road in, and just that same frequently flooded and muddied (when the high-tide rolls in) road out. Might be easy to open a bait-and-tackle shop at such a site, but a bookshop?

And did I mention that the Old House is haunted by what the locals term a "rapper"? An entity that, no, does not wear a baseball cap sideways nor work double turntables simultaneously, but whom makes a lot of racket nonetheless. And knocks over books and sticker displays. The ghostly nuisance of such a benign poltergeist!

Despite the odds stacked against Florence; and despite Violet Gamart and her uppity political power dead-set against the bookshop, for awhile, with the aid of an eleven year old girl, Christine Gipping, as well a part-time bookkeeper, and the most honorable auspices of the veritable heart and soul of Hardborough itself, Mr. Brundish, Florence Green is able to make a good go with her bookshop, and for a year, she's relatively, surprisingly, successful. Even her lending library is a smash.

But not everyone is so thrilled with her success. Surrounding business's are jealous. Violet Gamart, (the Ice-Queen of Hardborough) isn't happy, either, her fairy-tale visions of the Old House becoming an "Arts Centre" for the town thwarted by this naive entrepreneur, Florence Green.

Florence Green would've been wiser not to give Christine Gipping, her eleven-year-old, impulsive part-timer, so much authority in the lending library, turns out, especially on the occasion of Violet Gamart's very first visit to the store. Precocious Christine, strictly abiding by the checkout lending rules, "intervenes" rather rudely (but within her rights!) as Violet Gamart attempts to procure for herself a volume out of turn. There's a waiting list, Lady, abide by it! A swift ruler-thwack to Violet's knuckles and...The Old House Bookshop, unfortunately, inevitably is doomed. Sorry to not warn of spoilers, but the book (a novella really) lets you know soon that there won't be a happy ending.

Penelope Fitzgerald's style is concise and fast paced, but full like a hearty homecooked meal leaves you full. The book is small, though, diminuitive, a diamond: perfect in equilateral literary geometric dimensions that only enhance its shiniest story sparkle. The Bookshop, in 123 pages, sparkles like that perfect diamond, more rare jewel than slim, rarely read book nowadays...and then some.
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LibraryThing member Lman
With very few words this book sure says a lot! The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald offers, within a slim framework, a tiny glimpse into a fragment of a local community chock-full of small-minded people, and creates a huge impression!

When the widow Florence Green - who, in truth, has been existing, rather than living, for the last eight years in the coastal village of Hardborough, East Anglia - decides to open a bookshop in this isolated area, reactions are mixed. In order to succeed at this unusual venture Florence has to overcome a series of obstacles: human, inanimate and preternatural; but chiefly those placed in her path by the district authorities, from her bank manager and her solicitor, to the county society doyenne, Violet Gamart. In what is essentially a concise, but elegantly-detailed construction of Florence's experiences, as she organises the purchase, renovation, opening and daily running of her bookshop, the minutia of life in this damp and dying community also unfolds.

This book is probably best described as a sad little tale accentuating, with clever understatement and adroit particulars, the foibles of life in a diminished seaside village – and the endeavours of some of the petty inhabitants to increase, at the expense of others, their inconsequential significance. The genius in the text is the meticulous description of the desultory specifics of local life, thus providing a depth of analysis, intimated delicately between the lines, for the reader to ponder. There is so much more to this tale in what is left unsaid than in what is written. And what is written is just delightful: when Florence sets up in the 'Old House' - named for the fact that it is one of the oldest structures in this already ancient area - the shop is, of course, named "The Old House Bookshop" - how not!

This is my first Penelope Fitzgerald – and it won’t be my last. There is an economy of style and degree of skill, in her writing, to depict a mood, an atmosphere, an ambience, that is all the more striking with the brevity of the work. There is nothing uncommon in this small-town situation the author portrays: the fear of the unusual with an intense phobia surrounding any change, any disruption to the status quo. The author has, however, with exceptional ability, created precisely, and concisely, an absorbing tale in regards to such, which is also, on the whole, quite touching.
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LibraryThing member trinityofone
An English widow decides to open up a bookshop in her small town. That was all I knew of this book (well, and that my mom has a dozen of Fitzgerald's slim paperbacks strewn around her house) and that was what made me pick it up. So my reaction here is kind of a case of thwarted expectations: I was expecting something much more light and comic and—okay, I don't want to say *life-affirming*, because my vanity wants me to think I am not the sort of person who ever desires to read anything that could be described as "life-affirming" or "uplifting." But yeah: I wanted to read something that made me go, "Books and reading FTW!"

This is not that book. Really, it's a tiny, tightly-written tragedy, a story about how people can be really, truly awful to one another, with all the good people getting punished and bad people rewarded. It's very well-written and perfectly, plainly presented, and *damn*, does it hurt. I finished it just after midnight and went to bed whimpering.
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LibraryThing member wandering_star
In 1959, a middle aged woman opens a bookshop in an East Anglian village - unwittingly crossing the village's self-styled doyenne of the arts in the process. The story unfolds from there, first as a genteel comedy of manners, and later with a darker, sadder twist. Early on, the narrator suggests that Florence (the shop owner) is naive not to think that people are "divided into exterminators and exterminatees, with the former, at any given moment, predominating". The word 'exterminator' seems overstated at the time, but becomes apter.

The book is wittily written and I enjoyed reading it. I did feel that the ending all came about rather suddenly, and unexpectedly different in tone from what had gone before - but then, this is the same way that it was experienced by Florence, so I suppose we are experiencing that along with her. But for me, it didn't really live up to the rave reviews - it was a bit too light.
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LibraryThing member thorold
Penelope Fitzgerald is one of those writers who is perversely famous for having been overlooked for most of her career, until she won a major prize late in life and everyone started saying how good her early works were. This is one of those early works, her second, from 1978, a charming little story about a widow who opens a bookshop in a small coastal town in Suffolk in the late 1950s (it sounds to be loosely based on Southwold), and unintentionally finds herself in conflict with the local Lucia, Mrs Gamas. Under the veneer of provincial social comedy there's a potent, but very understated, layer of mockery of English philistinism, but it's also about another very English quirk, the pleasure of fighting losing battles. Definitely worth a look.… (more)
LibraryThing member barbarasbooks
1959 Florence Green decides to open a book shop in the small seaside town of Hardborough, England. In the end, it seems no one really wants a book shop. Clever and witty, but also a sad comment on the cruelty of human nature.
LibraryThing member TimBazzett
I've wanted to read this book for years, and now I have. First published in England in 1978, it took nearly twenty years before it was published here in the U.S. I found it at an AAUW book sale earlier this month. THE BOOK SHOP is a title that naturally catches the eye and attention of booklovers. It is an absolute gem. A small one, perhaps, at just over 120 pages, but it gleams gorgeously in its perfection. Fitzgerald is a genius in knowing how to pare a story down to its bare essentials. Her Florence Green is a character easy to love. A tiny but determined widow wanting to do something with her life, she opens a book shop in the village of Hardborough. Unfortunately the village residents are not all that interested in books, in addition to which she unwittingly makes an enemy of the most wealthy and influential woman in town. A few other characters are so believable. Old Mr. Brundish, Mr. Raven, a ten year-old girl who comes in to help out, and others. But Mrs. Green herself is the heart and soul of the novel, and when things begin to go south for her, you may feel your own heart breaking in sympathy.

And yet there are comical moments here too, at least I thought so. Florence's worrying about the possibility of 'local authors' wanting to come to her shop, for instance -

"... the books were called 'On Foot Across the Marshes' or 'Awheel Across East Anglia,' for what else can be done with flatlands but to cross them? ... She vividly imagined their disillusionment, wedged behind a table with books and a pen in front of them, while the hours emptied away and no one came ... 'The customers will come in and ask for your book soon - of course they will, they have heard of you, you are a local author. Of course they will want your signature, they will come across the marshes, afoot and awheel.' The thought of so much suffering and embarrassment was hard to bear ..."

As one of those 'local authors' myself, I found myself chuckling and smiling, remembering the empty stores, the embarrassment. Hell, I laughed out loud. Fitzgerald knows about books and authors and book stores. But most of all she knows people, and how indifferent and even cruel they can be, perhaps especially in small towns and villages where everyone knows everyone else's business.

This is a beautifully written little book, wise and sweet all at the same time. It ends almost abruptly, but any other ending would have been wrong. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER
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LibraryThing member sara_k
This is more like it! The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald is a slim book that contains a world of real people living real lives. Florence Green has decided to open a bookshop in her small town. The people, the books, the systems of aide and support are all interwoven and detailed. This brave decision to change a staid life is countered by the whim of a wealthy person who wants her own way. Using power because it is possible and not for any deeper reason, Mrs. Gamart moralizes that she's working for the betterment of the community as she strips everything from Mrs. Green. She has stripped friendship, hope, home, and livlihood before she has accomplished her goal.

I would recommend this book to several women I know in their 20's to 40's, several men of the same age bracket, and to a teacher who runs an ESL school in an Asian country (the clarity of the writing as well as the detailed context make this book excellent for mid-level new English speakers.
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LibraryThing member John
In 1959, Florence Green, a widow with a "kind heart", "small wispy and wiry" decides to risk everything and open a bookshop in the seaside town of Hardborough. An isolated town (no rail service) and the name is illustrative: life is hard in the town in terms of its having to come to grips with economic changes in society-shops closing, people moving in and out-while the dead hand of class distinctions and the ability of those in authority/influence to get their way, regardless. The story describes no grand sweeping events, nothing to leave a trace on the fabric of history. Just the simple chronicle of Florence's opening of the bookshop-successful at first, but in the end done in by currents of jealousy and pettiness that she has set off; particularly in offending the "ruling" social queen (Mrs.Gamart) of the manor who wanted the building Florence occupies for an "arts centre". It is the story of the pettiness of people unable to look up to a larger vision, and the uselessness of the upper classes who retain control not out of respect, but out of habit and influence.

There are some good characters and snapshots of life in Britain. Florence herself is resilient, forthright, independent, and confident. Christine, a young girl (11) who comes to help Florence in the bookshop: mature beyond her years, efficient, bright, energetic, but who fails the critical school exam that streams people into secondary school (some vague hint that she might have been failed as partial retribution against Florence) so that she has to go to trades school. Florence later hears that Christine has faded away and out into a spiral of life that is down and negates all the bright, eager promise she had shown. Mr.Brundish: an old recluse who is a recognized power in the town, but who rarely if ever ventures outside his door. He and Florence become friends in an odd tangential way, and the final pathos of the story is when Brundish challenges Mrs.Gamart because she is orchestrating legal maneuvers to oust Florence from her building, and to bankrupt her in the process. It is a challenge that Brundish will win, but he keels over and dies upon leaving the house, and the story is then put about that in fact he had sided with Mrs.Gamart. A final blow to Florence. The last line of the book: "As the train drew out of the station she sat with her head bowed in shame, because the town in which she had lived for nearly ten years had not wanted a bookshop."

The book blurb quotes Balzac to the effect that the ordinariness of human lives can never be a measure of the effort it takes to keep them going. This is true of The Bookshop, which, in that sense, is very much like Carol Shields. I will look for more books by Penelope Fitzgerald.
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LibraryThing member bhowell
this is a wonderful book and brought a tear to my eye, one of the author's earliest but brilliantly written novels, a good story about the many small cruelties inflicted in a small community by small minded people and the devasting effect on their victim. Very British.
LibraryThing member Wildegenes
In a mere 123 pages Penolope Fitzgerald introduces us to a cast of at least a dozen characters populating a village in Britain's East Anglia. A few deft sentences and we get the look and style of each one. She does this by first evoking a distinct sense of place. It is easy to read this book in a couple of hours. Charmed by the eccentricities of the villagers and the humble courage of Florence Green the reader is lulled into believing all will be well. The betrayals therefore are all the more devastating. This is not a book to read when you are feeling low.… (more)
LibraryThing member knittingfreak
This is the first book by Fitzgerald that I've read. It's a fun novella that is full of small town charm and wit. Florence Green, a widow, decides to open a bookshop in the Old House in the tiny coastal town of Hardborough. Much to her surprise, she soon discovers that not everyone in this tiny little community is excited about her new venture. It seems that even though the Old House has been sitting empty for ages, once Florence decides to purchase it for her bookshop, others suddenly have ideas for the place themselves. It's not only some of the townsfolk that she must contend with, but she also must contend with the rapper who occupies the Old House, as well. Before you get the wrong idea, the rapper in this case is a poltergeist that isn't too thrilled to have someone living in the house again. But, Florence doesn't let the people or the poltergeist stop her from realizing her dream. After much negotiation with the bank manager, Florence gets the loan and begins the task of turning the Old House into a proper bookshop.

The book is full of interesting characters (besides the rapper) such as Christine, the 10-year old girl who becomes Florence's assistant in the store. Like all of the children in Hardborough, Christine is used to hard work and seems older than her years. Mrs. Gamart is the self-appointed matron of Hardborough along with her husband the General. While most of the townsfolk simply think Florence's shop will fail, Mrs. Gamart is openly against the idea. For she has decided that Hardborough requires an arts center, and the Old House is the perfect place for it. Never mind the fact that it has sat empty for years. There's really only a couple people who actually support Florence in her endeavor, one being an eccentric recluse whom she only meets in person once. This is a fun book with great descriptions of small town life in a coastal village and a cast of very colorful characters. I will definitely be seeking out more books by Penelope Fitzgerald.
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LibraryThing member Voracious_Reader
I'm not sure that I liked The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald. The story feels like it's over before it has begun. The characters are considerately crafted, but what a downer. She artfully recreates the backbiting and constant gossip of a small town where the inhabitants attempt to keep things the same or control all things at all costs. How dare anyone attempt to elevate themselves without their permission? It was very well-written, but I can't say it was enjoyable to read about people behaving horribly.… (more)
LibraryThing member soylentgreen23
When I finished this quiet, unassuming book, I was so simultaneously delighted and drained that I felt the urge to go and lie down on the floor, sadly smiling. Fitzgerald possesses the lightest touch; her wit gleams less like a diamond than a knife in the shadows.
LibraryThing member readingwithtea
Summary: Florence Green, whom life seems to have passed by, dares to open a bookshop in The Old House in a seaside village in East Anglia. She takes on the polite but ruthless local opposition, the disintegrating old house and the supernatural in her endeavour. However, 1959 is not a kind year to widows opening small businesses.

First off, the writing is beautiful. Fitzgerald cultivates a small but clever cast of personalities, with a gentle gradation of character development. To quote the TLS from the back cover: "Fitzgerald's resources of odd people are impressively rich".

At 153 pages, this is definitely one of the shortest books I have read since I graduated from the Famous Five and Secret Seven. However, I'm not sure that added length would add anything to the novel, as we focus only on Florence's time in the village. In a larger work covering all of Florence's life, her time in the village would probably occupy this many pages, so in a sense it's not small at all, just precisely focussed.

There's not much of a plot but that is a pleasant change for me, given that I usually read very plot-driven novels (e.g. Clive Cussler). We pass ten years in Florence's company (almost exclusively), in a succession of episodes and moments which introduce us to some strange people with peculiar motivations. Some of them threaten to descend to farce (particularly the old man who keels over dead in the market square), but poor Florence remains fixed solidly in realism throughout.

One character who is exquisitely captured is young Christine. The ten-year-old bookshop assistant is proud and proper but smacks a customer over the hand with a ruler. She confides in Florence and listens to her, but runs off in a huff when her schooling takes an unfortunate twist. Like Marcus in About A Boy and Alan Bradley's spectacular efforts with Flavia, Christine is a beautiful child who springs off the page into the reader's heart.

The villagers are an odd mob and are strangely set against Florence - whether this is due to the interference of the village's most prominent member of society is not quite clear, which adds to the charm; the reader cannot be sure of the minor characters' motivations. I'm still confused by Milo North. The poltergeist embodies the village spirit, in that he is loudest and most disruptive when Florence is successful. I was apprehensive about the introduction of the poltergeist, but it was neatly done. Fitzgerald has a gentle touch with irony, and it lightens the sombre mood regularly.

I had some questions which were not answered (the circumstances of her being widowed, what her connection to the village is or why she moved there), and they are not answered precisely because the focus is only on her time in the village. However, the answers aren't important.

Favourite quotes:

"She had a kind heart, though that is not of much use when it comes to the matter of self-preservation."

"She had been trusted, and that was not an everyday experience in Hardborough"

"Her disappointment, however, endeared her to the shopkeepers of Hardborough. They had all known better, and could have told her so."

"Gentleness is not kindness. His fluid personality tested and stole into the weak places of other until it found it could settle down to its own advantage"

"Lord Gosfield was touched, though he had said nothing all evening, and had in fact driven the hundred odd miles expressly to say nothing in the company of his old friend Bruno"

I would definitely be interested in reading more FitzGerald after this, and I hope someone decides to make a film out of this - I can just see Jennifer Ehle, Helen Blaxendale or even Helena Bonham-Carter bustling about a little bookshop with the grey East Anglian sea in the background...

Reviews from other bloggers: dovegreyreader, Savidge Reads, Novel Insights, Sasha and the Silverfish, The Mookse and the Gripes
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LibraryThing member apartmentcarpet
This is a very slow read. It's almost as though instead of a plot, the author is working at creating a mood, and in that regard, she succeeds. The entire story has a feeling of unease, but I kept waiting for more excitement.
LibraryThing member sandpiper
I picked this book up a while back because (a) the author had been recommended to me, and (b) I'd won another of her books in a ferret-naming competition, so I was keeping an eye out for what else she'd written. I was attracted by the cover, and I love bookshops, so it was an easy decision to buy.

Last night, I was struggling with a non-fiction book, and just wanted some fiction which was easy to get into. I chose this one, largely because it was a short book, so I thought we would be straight into the plot. And we were. Before I reached the bottom of the first page, the main character was starting to form in my mind. By the end of the second page, the groundwork was laid for the plot. A masterful beginning.

I'm afraid I rather raced through the book, as I was eager to learn how the story progressed. Being set in 1959, there was a distinct class divide in the town, but with hints of the way this was beginning to change in British society. But at its base is a stonking good story, with some characters you are rooting for, some you are booing from the sidelines, and some you can't quite make out, with a good dollop of gentle humour. Recommended.
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LibraryThing member Zmrzlina
Very often I was reminded of The Remains of the Day while reading this book. There is the same melancholy acceptance of the way things are, though the way may not be fair. But in The Bookshop, Florence Green, the protagonist, does try to change the way things are. The story doesn't relay on Florence Green's success or failure though. It relies on the reader's ability to hold the hope that just because something has always been one way doesn't mean it has to always be one way.… (more)
LibraryThing member jennyo
This is an excellent little book that packs a big emotional wallop into just slightly more than 100 pages. Florence Green is a widower with a small inheritance who decides to open a bookshop in a small seaside town in England.

Fitzgerald's writing reminds me of William Maxwell's. Both writers use words economically, but precisely. Both seem to emphasize character over plot. Both are stunningly good.

There's a quote on the back cover of this book that I think sums it up nicely. (I don't usually quote cover text, but this seems appropriate.)

"Balzac, an expert on how nasty people can be to one another in small country places, once said that the ordinariness of human lives can never be a measure of the effort it takes to keep them going. Anyone who has found this to be true will admire Florence Green for her wit and her innocent courage, a courage that comes from simply choosing to survive."

I think this story will haunt me for a while.
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LibraryThing member pokarekareana
I really liked the characters, and the sense of place was good. The plot was a bit slow in places, and I felt a bit disappointed with the ending; I think I would have liked more resistance to the unpleasant behaviour of some of the characters from the protagonist and those around her. It could have been more dramatic, but definitely a great effort from somebody who came to writing late in life.… (more)
LibraryThing member SonjaYoerg
Everything you could wish to know about small town England is contained in these pages. The book is short because each sentence holds so much. If you don't like short books, I recommend reading this one slowly. The story is about a woman who opens a bookshop, but really it could have been about any other seemingly insignificant event. The beauty of this story is in how casually and deftly the author dishes up biting satire. So mannered, so polite. "My dear, no, of course I didn't mean it that way. So very sorry. More tea?" My cup of tea, anyway. A true pleasure.… (more)
LibraryThing member richardderus
Rating: 5* of five

The Publisher Says: In 1959 Florence Green, a kindhearted widow with a small inheritance, risks everything to open a bookshop - the only bookshop - in the seaside town of Hardborough. By making a success of a business so impractical, she invites the hostility of the town's less prosperous shopkeepers. By daring to enlarge her neighbors' lives, she crosses Mrs. Gamart, the local arts doyenne. Florence's warehouse leaks, her cellar seeps, and the shop is apparently haunted. Only too late does she begin to suspect the truth: a town that lacks a bookshop isn't always a town that wants one.

My Review: Florence Green is my current idol of Resistance. She has lived quietly and unassumingly in Hardborough, a small East Anglian seaside town, and realized that her life was simply passing and not being lived. So she took her small inheritance and opened a bookshop.

A good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life, and as such it must surely be a necessary commodity.

Of course, she takes out a loan against the freehold of her premises to start the business. The sums are risible by today's standards, since this is 1959, but they seem enormous to Mrs Green. She sets out to stock her business with the remainder stock of her former employers in London, then contacts publishers' sales agents to visit and display their wares:

Those who made it {to her shop} were somewhat unwilling to part with...what Florence really wanted, unless she would also take a pile of novels which had the air, in their slightly worn jackets, of women on whom no one had ever made any demand.
This being 1959, a certain degree of wincing at this self-deprecating, or merely invisibly sexist, humor is to be granted; but Fitzgerald wrote the novel in 1977 or thereabouts, as it was first published in 1978. Was this mildly misogynistic sally meant to be read with a raised eyebrow, or was she simply oblivious to its sexism? I don't know, but I'm guessing it wasn't ironic based on the tone of the tale. It's very funny either way.

Life as a business proprietor is not stress-free. Mrs Green is a busy, busy woman. Many are the factors she is required to balance in her running of the business. Yet summer comes but once a year, and after all what good is living in a seaside village if the sea is invisible?

She ought to go down to the beach. It was Thursday, early closing, and it seemed ungrateful to live so close to the sea and never look at it for weeks on end.
It's always seemed odd to me how many people I know here in my own seaside city who simply don't pay the slightest attention to the ocean that surrounds us!

Mrs Green has failed to do one crucial thing in opening her shop: Get the town's Great and Good on side. In fact, when she is invited to the local county set's meeting place, she receives a very simple and direct order to cease and desist her plans to open her shop in the Old House, which it transpires the local grande dame wishes to put to another use. To everyone's blank surprise, she does not back down. The invisible battle lines are drawn:

She had once seen a heron flying across the estuary and trying, while it was on the wing, to swallow an eel which it had caught. The eel, in turn, was struggling to escape from the gullet of the heron and appeared a quarter, a half, or occasionally three-quarters of the way out. The indecision expressed by both creatures was pitiable. They had taken on too much.
The battles go in Mrs Green's favor...until they quite memorably do not. The quality do not like being told no.

But the battles are waged fully! Mrs Green is not one to lie down and say die!

Courage and endurance are useless if they are never tested.
The tests are, in the end, simply more than Mrs Green has the resources to withstand. The state gets involved. The lawyers and the banks are not on her side. The town isn't willing to pull themselves out of the primordial muck of How Things Are Done to rally to her aid.

It was defeat, but defeat is less unwelcome when you are tired.
And yet Florence Green stood tall until the last moment, only leaving Hardborough when her very last farthing is needed to buy her way out of the morass that her impertinent refusal to bow before the quality has landed her in.

For that reason, I recommend this book for your 45-hating, Resistance fighting, Yule giftee. It will give them a rock to stand on.
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LibraryThing member mphchicago
A nasty little village populated by mean and annoying characters. I didn't even like the supposedly "kindly" woman whose dream it was to open the bookshop. She had no love of books whatsoever. The story seemed choppy and not quite fleshed out but I don't think I could have taken anymore along the same lines.
LibraryThing member Kiwimrsmac
I wanted to love it, I really did, but the ending left me disappointed and empty. I could have given it three stars, except the rest of the story was moving and gripping. But...so much was left unsaid. The ghosts in the house? Who & why? Family? It was a wonderful story, and it had so much more to give, but it glossed over a lot.
I read it because it fits into my reading goal of reading all books about bookstores & booksellers. But although I gave it 4 stars, I'm not sure I'd recommend it. Sorry. I loved it but wanted more.
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LibraryThing member Widsith
Reading this in conjunction with other nominees for the 1978 Booker Prize, like Jane Gardam's God on the Rocks and Kingsley Amis's Jake's Thing, really does give you this impression of 70s England as a place of small towns, insular gossip, hostility to new ideas, and a preoccupation with quotidian concerns over any sense of the wider world. In a sense, fair enough – but one does slightly yearn for a little more ambition and pizzazz in the novelling world. By comparison, Iris Murdoch's The Sea, The Sea, which I didn't entirely love when I read it years ago, seems like a worthy winner; it took those parochial English elements and made them into something archetypal, something mythic and strange and genuinely literary.

That said, there is loads to like about most of the choices and this brief study in disillusion and small-town rivalries is no exception. Fitzgerald teeters on the edge of tweeness but her writing is unsentimental enough and her characters believable enough to cope with it. My favourite moments came in the unexpected flashes of local landscape and custom – the marshman filing a horse's teeth, the uninhabited housing development slowly falling off the cliffs, the matter-of-fact Suffolk poltergeist inhabiting the bookshop.

I was left impressed with Fitzgerald's steely refusal to sugar-coat her narrative's decline and fall – even if, for me, it was hard not to wish she'd found a way to sublimate it all into something a bit more transcendent at the end. But Britain in 1978 was clearly about as untranscendent as you can get.
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