Daisy Hildyard

Emergency

from vain-glory and AUTOFICTION, Good Lord, deliver us

But that aside, this is actually very finely-written, with a real ear for landscape and for the natural world. Suffers sometimes from rooting political commentary — in particular a kind of authorial self-flagellation wrt. the more 'comfortable' aspects of her own background — in the ultra-generic ('my white body') vs. the specific (this aspect of the book is most convincing in the biographies of particular families and individuals and circumstances).

Publisher's choice to translate everything into American ('mom', 'Gatorade', 'freeway', and, heaven help me, 'Saran wrap') totally nonsensical — & it rings so false to the author's exceptionally well-drawn 90s Yorkshire! Would go so far as to say that the distinctive characteristic of 90s Britain, now essentially vanished, is lack of exposure to these things; I think Americans can handle hearing 'motorway' in the year of our lord 2023, but not vice versa in 1995.

Emergency

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