I had never read anything (that I can remember) by Rumer Godden, and this book does not make that an imperative, unlike other biographies, which sent me racing to the book store to pick up the subject's works. However, I do want to see the Renoir adaptation of "The River."
I found this a bit boring. Something about the slight, anecdotal writing. It just didn't pack a wallop for me. I read to the end - it wasn't pure Hell anything - but I didn't look forward to returning to it.
The rather wan writing style may simply reflect the rather wan woman who was, according to Chisholm's interpretation, stuffy and bound by a sort of suburban conventionality. And yet, one wonders what someone else might have made of a life lived in such exotic places...
One example of the disappointing writing of the book is the depiction of the relationship between Rumer and the older sister she worshiped. The biographer seems to have just gotten her toes wet before she pulls back. This sister was obviously jealous of Rumer and hated to relinquish her queenly role in the family to the daughter who waas obviously the better - at least more acclaimed - writer. But the biographer seems to skirt this - she alludes to it, but never goes deeply into it, as if, like her subject, she is wrinkling up her nose at anything "distasteful."