One remembers a rather exciting games master at the old alma mater reading us random chunks of this, among other books, when it was too inclement for rugger practice.
For this reason, it will always be associated in one’s mind with the smell of lineament and teenage sweat and the burns on the back of one’s legs caused by sitting on the clanking, clunking radiators in the second form changing room.
Happening upon a dogeared paperback copy propping up the door of the summerhouse* one determined to visit the whole oeuvre. Quel disappointment.
A girl child called Scout lives somewhere. I think it is colonial. Possibly America. Persons seem truly uneducated and not one’s type at all.
Nothing much happens for a very large part of the book. Then a man is accused of a crime he seems not to have committed. But he is found guilty anyway.
And nothing much happens again. There is a rabid dog, and a nasty man who has evil designs on the heroine and her brother. There is a struggle. The bad man gets killed somehow, I’m not clear how.
End of story.
One star – for longevity.
*It’s a shed, you pompous little prat! ed. Jacintha Farquhar