T. F. Powys (1875–1953)

This is a very quirky book, almost 4 stars but couldn't bring myself to go quite that high, whereas I can easily commit to 3.

It's apparently an allegory, but I'm not so sure--it seems to me that it is what it is, given Mr. Weston being another name for God, and that Mr. Weston likes to speak in metaphors, but otherwise it seems to be taken at face value. God (Mr. Weston) comes to town (two of them, but the second turns out to be the important one), and eventually gets involved with the townspeople.

The townspeople are what keeps this from 4 stars-ness. They're an odd bunch, not particularly likeable, not particularly realistic. There's none of the joy of, say, Edward Scissorhands and its offbeat residents. They're all obsessed with something or other, and they seem, most of them, excessively concerned with sex (described as doings under the old oak tree). If it's an allegory, I have no hope of understanding what any of them stood for, especially Mrs Vosper or Mr. Grunter, or why anyone would think Mr. Grunter capable of all he was assumed to have done, or why anyone would think to let him if it were true.

If you enjoy oddities (The Hearing Trumpet, The Towers of Trebizon) of a certain age, and I do, this volume will have some charm, and you will be surprised it was published and has somewhat survived. But this can hardly be a race-out-and-read-at-all-costs kind of book, it just isn't compelling enough, though there are moments throughout that are beautifully written. Skillful ... and strange.… (mais)