Quartet In Autumn by Barbara Pym

Someone asked me recently where I get ideas for the books that I read, and I gave what was probably too long an answer for what the asker was looking for, and quite sparse for the reality of the myriad of pathways into getting on my reading list, but one of them is Ann Patchett's If You Haven't Read It Is New To You Friday vlog series, where she and various authors who come to her store to do events offer up books that you m ight have overlooked--which is often the case for me, and this is one such book. If you ever start to think you are well read, check this series out, it will tether you back to the earth immediately. I am more or less immune to those thoughts because I live in a UNESCO City of Literature, where practically every third person on the street has read more than I have, and that is bolstered by the undergraduate population, who are young and haven't yet had the time. In any case, this gem from 1968 comes from that source. The book centers on Letty, Edwin, Marcia and Norman — four ageing clerks working in the same unspecified London office, all on the verge of retirement and all living alone. This book is not cluttered up with unrequited love, or indeed any love at all. The four main characters’ lives are drained of love. That one of them once offered to make a cup of tea for one of the others is what counts for kindness and warmth in their desiccated lives. Yet we gradually develop an affection for them as we watch them live out their isolated existences — especially over Christmas, when they somehow get through the dreaded day alone or foisted on charitable relatives or neighbours. Very gradually we realise that, really, they have no one in the world there for them but each other. Every scene in this novel manages to be simultaneously hilarious and almost unbearably bleak. And yet, here I am, recommending it to you.