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Stevie Smith was born Florence Margaret in 1902. When she tried to publish a volume of poems, she was told to 'go away and write a novel'. This was the result. She died in 1971.
This is a foot-off-the-ground novel that came by the left hand....If you are a foot-on-the-ground person, this book will be for you a desert of weariness and exasperation. So put it down. Leave it alone. -Thus the author - and this reader, and two others on whom I tried out the galley proofs, qualify unreservedly as foot-on-the, ground persons. (1) I frankly acknowledge I don't know what the book's about. (2) I don't care. (3) I wont believe anyone who says he or she likes it. Briefly, I'd characterize it as Gertrude Stein at her least intelligible, plus a bit of Opal Whitely faking, plus a few ingredients of shockers for false measure. As you can see, I didn't like it, so I am not fair to it, and I think you'd better have a look at it yourselves, since the publishers are all steamed up about it, and they aren't usually as crazy as this would indicate. (Kirkus Reviews)
