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demimancy's review against another edition
3.0
An interesting concept, especially since I am a particular fan of Virginia Woolf, but the execution lacked punch. Read Orlando instead.
meghan_is_reading's review against another edition
Possessed writer writing historical lesbian intellectuals. "Subtly erotic" does not count for #bookclub4m erotic romance month. I have been led astray by inaccurate subject headings. Disliked the ending.
kate_lynn's review against another edition
2.0
Strong writing, but I found the story boring and lacking a concrete purpose.
littlemonster's review against another edition
5.0
Richly evocative, illustrated throughout with brilliant imagery, I truly believe that Palmerino has wiggled its way into my heart, and onto my list of favorite books. Pritchard’s writing is not exactly straightforward – she’s no Hemingway – but this very trait is what makes the book feel so alive. Although a portion of it is set in the modern day, there is a definite feeling regardless of the current narration of a time gone by—an aspect that fits well with the loneliness and isolation our ‘main’ character, Sylvia, is experiencing. It’s a book within a book, of sorts, but there’s no need to worry about it being overly complex; we are feeling, sensing, and experiencing with Sylvia as she struggles to write a biography on Vernon Lee (a pseudonym for Violet Paget), a (real life) author of supernatural stories and essays on music, art and the likes. Sylvia has recently been abandoned by her husband for his lover, a young man, and although she’s feeling the sting of being left, she clearly feels more at ease by herself, without the hovering presence of anyone else in her life. She has gone to stay at the Villa Il Palmerino in Italy, where Vernon Lee spent a good deal of her later days, for inspiration.
I think the novel could be considered slow in its beginning, and I must confess that initially I was verging on bored. It isn’t too long, however, before things take a turn, and I found myself utterly enraptured—by the narration, the characters, the sense of dreaminess. As Sylvia tries to write her book (spurred on by the failure of a few of her others), we also get to see through the eyes of Vernon—bothwhen she’s dead and when she’s living . The character of Vernon herself was so strong and well-developed that she practically leapt off the page. I felt for her as she fought against her sexuality, as she tried to penetrate that world of insufferable male intellectuals, as she found herself and lost herself and found herself all over again. There isn’t a very large supporting cast, or a large cast in general, but the book was helped rather than hindered by this aspect. The few other side characters are just as finely drawn as Vernon, particularly Vernon’s mother Matilda, prone to extreme old-fashionedness, to the point of using ‘thee’ and ‘thou’; her eccentric half-brother, Eugene Lee-Hamilton, a poet in his own right; Kit Anstruther-Thomson, the strapping Scottish horsewoman that Vernon finds comfort in after the failure of a previous relationship; and Mary, the aforementioned breaker of Vernon’s heart.
Their lives are fascinating, and the narration and its style original. I found myself sympathizing with Vernon, empathizing with her even, regardless of her ill tempers and sometimes frustrating behaviors. I think she’s a beautiful example of a woman who defied conventions in a time when such a thing was simply unimaginable, and her personality is so unique. Her interactions with her mother, brother, Kit, and everyone else is beautifully rendered, and although I’ve never read any of Lee’s works and therefore cannot attest to the accuracy with which her nature is portrayed (and indeed the book itself is no factual biography), I did feel that, by the end, I understood her excellently. Pritchard has a way of weaving beautiful, whimsical words together without losing the thread of emotion, without losing the connection between reader and heroine. I haven’t read any of Pritchard’s other books, but I will most certainly be looking into them now.
She simply has a real way with words. I was drawn to the book mostly because of its partial-period setting and its inclusion of a real-world lesbian author, but every aspect was appealing. The only complaint I have is that Sylvia’s life, in comparison, seems boring and a little dragging. To be fair, I think part of this is intentional—we get a good idea of just how reclusive Sylvia is becoming, just how strange it is to be residing in a country where one can barely even form the simplest of sentences in the people’s language. But still, I found myself a touch disappointed when Vernon’s chapters (or the chapters about her) were over and we were back to Sylvia. One good thing: it drove me to keep reading late into the night, desperate to get the next bits and pieces of Vernon’s story. I also felt that the descriptions of Italy were gorgeous, and it made me feel as if I was seeing it all myself!
Those are really the only errors I can think of that I found with the story. Others, of course, might not find it to their taste; but to me, it was perfectly suited. I would recommend it wholeheartedly, particularly for those who want a quick but completely engrossing read. In the future, I would not hesitate to reread it.
I think the novel could be considered slow in its beginning, and I must confess that initially I was verging on bored. It isn’t too long, however, before things take a turn, and I found myself utterly enraptured—by the narration, the characters, the sense of dreaminess. As Sylvia tries to write her book (spurred on by the failure of a few of her others), we also get to see through the eyes of Vernon—both
Their lives are fascinating, and the narration and its style original. I found myself sympathizing with Vernon, empathizing with her even, regardless of her ill tempers and sometimes frustrating behaviors. I think she’s a beautiful example of a woman who defied conventions in a time when such a thing was simply unimaginable, and her personality is so unique. Her interactions with her mother, brother, Kit, and everyone else is beautifully rendered, and although I’ve never read any of Lee’s works and therefore cannot attest to the accuracy with which her nature is portrayed (and indeed the book itself is no factual biography), I did feel that, by the end, I understood her excellently. Pritchard has a way of weaving beautiful, whimsical words together without losing the thread of emotion, without losing the connection between reader and heroine. I haven’t read any of Pritchard’s other books, but I will most certainly be looking into them now.
She simply has a real way with words. I was drawn to the book mostly because of its partial-period setting and its inclusion of a real-world lesbian author, but every aspect was appealing. The only complaint I have is that Sylvia’s life, in comparison, seems boring and a little dragging. To be fair, I think part of this is intentional—we get a good idea of just how reclusive Sylvia is becoming, just how strange it is to be residing in a country where one can barely even form the simplest of sentences in the people’s language. But still, I found myself a touch disappointed when Vernon’s chapters (or the chapters about her) were over and we were back to Sylvia. One good thing: it drove me to keep reading late into the night, desperate to get the next bits and pieces of Vernon’s story. I also felt that the descriptions of Italy were gorgeous, and it made me feel as if I was seeing it all myself!
Those are really the only errors I can think of that I found with the story. Others, of course, might not find it to their taste; but to me, it was perfectly suited. I would recommend it wholeheartedly, particularly for those who want a quick but completely engrossing read. In the future, I would not hesitate to reread it.
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