Fin Keegan

PENELOPE FITZGERALD experienced a dream denied to all but a lucky few: her debut novel was accepted by the first editor to read it. Within a year the book was published, to be swiftly followed by further and better books: a year later she had won the Booker Prize and captured a loyal, readership which was to grow steadily over the following years. Her final novel sold 100,00 copies in the United States alone. Until her recent death at 83, Penelope Fitzgerald was one of the most widely admired writers in the English language.
      The difference of course–when is there not a difference–was that Penelope Fitzgerald was in her sixty-fourth year when this career began. Though resolutely English–daughter of a Punch editor, granddaughter on both sides of Anglican bishops–this debut novelist was as far from the Beatlish perception of sexagenarian dotage as was the late Quentin Crisp: Penelope Fitzgerald was, and remained to the day of her death, one of the world’s sharper tacks…Read MORE of my review of Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Blue Flower.

Tagged: Fiction, Germany