THis book is a mixed bag. I have read a dozen or more books and seen dozens of movies that have depicted the devastating effect of World War I on Britain, but for me, this book is the best yet. It captured the unbearable sadness related to the crushing of hope and the reality of man's brutality to man. The book is long, probably too long, and it is hard to catch the central message--and perhaps there isn't one--for all the details, some of which are tiresome.
It is most successful at describing a complex web of inter-relationships between a wide number of characters from various walks of life. The social class and prejudices of the time, as well as the effect of a rising role for women, comes across in a palatable manner that helps to better understand what England and the turn of the century were like.
The aspect I like least about the book is the thread related to it's title--the children's book author, Olive Wellwood. Apparently, Byatt has some deep-seated resentment for those adults amongst us who clamored for Harry Potter, and therefore neglected more deserving children's authors. I wish she had taken those feeling to her therapist's office rather than regale the reader with them--when the book diverts into Olive's world it is at it's weakest. The 'excerpts' from the book are too long, and building a dislike of Olive could have been done more expertly and in less time in another manner. The fact that she writes children's books is a distraction. As are many of the details of the book. It is brilliantly written, so these criticisms, while real, do not mean the book shouldn't be read. Rather they are lamentations that the book could have been so much better, perhaps even a classic.
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