A review by lauriestein
The House at Tyneford by Natasha Solomons

2.0

This book did not draw me in, at all. In fact, I was so little engaged that I did something that I almost never do, to wit, I skimmed the last couple hundred pages just to see how it turned out. Without certain redeeming qualities in the plot (The Hunger Games, e.g.), I have little patience for first-person female narrators with only the flaws that one would cop to in a job interview.

The comparisons to Downton Abbey are shallow at best. None of the supporting characters are given any depth, as Julian Fellowes does well; they never become more than caricatures. Really none of the principals, either, save Mr. Rivers, had enough depth for me to care two straws about them, which is something I regret to say about a World War II novel that should really be very touching.

I would read (and not skim) this book were it written from the perspective of Mr. Rivers, though, if only because he must (must!) have a more nuanced worldview than Elise. She seriously bugged.