Little Girl Lost

My Grandmothers and I
Diana Holman Hunt

When a book is described as a comic masterpiece
it is not unreasonable to laugh
and that is what I did when I started reading
this delightful memoir of a child living with
two eccentric, extravagant grandmothers.
In fact, I will admit that I cried with laughter.

But then I put the book down
and went to sleep
and in the morning
I felt quite differently.

The neglect and emotional deprivation
were no longer obscured
by the exquisite comic timing
and I was really distressed by the image
of a small child obliged to live at the whim
of her self-centred, tyrannical grandmothers.
And so I cried for a different reason.

I had planned to illustrate this post
with Holman Hunt's painting of
'The Light of the World'
but now I will always associate it with
a terrified child banging on the door
of the darkened crypt of St. Pauls,
begging to be let out.
And I couldn't bear to have it on my blog.

I recommend this book which is beautifully written...
but not if you are a passionate Pre-Raphaelite
because it might shatter your illusions.