This book got off to such a slow start that I almost abandonded it. Finally, about 35 minutes into it, the characters began to be a little more interesting, and the circular conversations began to make some sense. The author is apparently trying so hard to be mysterious and cute that she makes the characters boringly repetative and the story boringly obscure, but it does get better, and the characters more real, if you stick with it. I actually enjoyed the last 45 min of it.
Reader. Painter. Newspaper columnist. Nurse. Humane Society. Lake life. Walker. Happily remarried - was a widow.
Good story. Fast paced. English comedy style. Interesting view of the times.
The is one of the lamest books I've ever tried to listen to. The characters are just stupid. I couldn't finish this book because I really wanted to slap them all. How in the world did it get such high ratings?
This is the type of book my friend Ilene and I wished we were writing in middle school (without the racial purity bits, of course), when we filled the pages of composition notebooks with our sitcom fantasies. It is, in a word, sophomoric. It was while listening to this book that I came to appreciate the futility of adjectives. Two stars for Frances McDormand's lively performance.
A middle aged spinster hangs out for the day with the 1938 equivalent of Paris Hilton and a Hollywood stylist, discovers that superficial people really know what life is all about, undergoes a miraculous personality transformation and finds true love. Utterly ridiculous.
Other notable features are a casual anti-Semitism that is somewhat chilling given what would have been going on on the continent and what was around the corner, and Frances McDormand's miserable failure to do English accents.
The reader did a great job, but to me the story was just so-so. I know they made a movie from this book. Maybe having seen the movie would have made it more interesting.
I found this book to be incredibly boring and the characters not at ALL relatable. Miss Pettigrew has luck on her side, but no actual brain cells to speak of, which makes for a frustrating read/listen. The narrator, however, is great and keeps you feeling like you are listening to something much more enjoyable than you actually are.
Why was it not made clear that this is a book for children? Couldn't there be a different section for children's books?