2011-08-13

English village novels are almost always reliable as audiobooks. Helen Simonson might have made the Major's love interest a bit too perfect.

This was the dull ache of grief in the real world; more dyspepsia than passion.
Really, his son was becoming as unedited as Marjorie's family.
It would be satisfying to puncture the vapid conversation with the nail of deliberate cruelty.
... all of whom cultivated an air of establishment that was slightly marred by the almost audible hum of social ambition.
In an attempt to sound delicate, he squeezed the words out of his mouth like the last of the toothpaste from the tube.
He had found it a great comfort to open his iron strongbox, spread out the thick pages of his will, and read over the list of assets and
distributions. It read like a list of achievements.
Hugh's book order had resulted in six unnoticed monthly credit card charges for membership to a furry friends website...; it had been passed around the village as a friendly warning, but there were a few people who now called their dogs to heel when passing Whetson in the lane.
... Italian jardinières and tossed them on the compos like dead petunias. Alice Pierce, his neighbor, was quite public in her annual compost heap raids.
She made him a little less anonymous.
The world seemed to have shrunk to fit quite perfectly inside the room.