Jan. 20th, 2017

osprey_archer: (books)
I think Diana Athill must be a famous travel writer, because otherwise I’m not sure why else her youthful travel journal of her trip to Florence in 1948 would have been published. It’s not that it’s bad - in fact it’s rather charming in a gentle sort of way - but it is very much a travel journal: We did this and did this and saw a superb ceiling and then we stuffed ourselves on sweets.

In fact, I think my favorite part of the book was the introductory essay at the beginning, which is really more of a musing about all the holidays Athill has taken over the course of her life than anything directly related to the diary itself. The writing is more lush and descriptive than in the book proper - quite understandably, as Athill has had a few decades for her writing to ripen; and really the main thing I took out of this book is that I might like to check out some of her other books.

Glancing at her Wikipedia page, I see she wrote a memoir about her childhood. I love childhood memoirs! And this one is set in England in the 1920s and 30s, which is a time period I love too. Must see if the library has it!

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