As the letters continue, they become more detailed, and increasingly introspective in nature, revealing Eliza’s marriage troubles, her opinions of her neighbours and rather disturbing glimpses into Eliza’s growing erratic personality. Eliza’s letters to Joan – who readers learn has flown the family marriage home for global experiences – start out as simple inquiries. A 50-something woman, married to a senior Foreign Office official, living in an affluent South London suburb who fills her otherwise empty days volunteering at the local hospice and walking the family dog on the Commons. One typically doesn’t expect a story about a “self-propelled descent into madness” to sparkle with sharp observation and sardonic witticism of the type typically found in stories by another favorite British author, Muriel Spark, but Gardam has done just that. I am a fan of epistolary novels, especially the ones that take the form of self-revelation (cue We Need to Talk About Kevin).
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