BOOKER PRIZE SHORTLIST: Bedfordâs autobiographical historical fiction novel paints a vivid picture of life and family in 1920s Europe between WW1 and WW2.
âHer writing is like the conversation of a clever, worldly friend who we wish would come by more often.â âThe New Yorker
Sybille Bedford placed the ambiguous and inescapable stuff of her own life at the center of her fiction, and in Jigsawâher fourth and final novel, which was shortlisted for the 1989 Booker Prizeâshe did it with particular artistry.
âWhat I had in mind,â she was later to say, âwas to build a novel out of the events and people who had made up, and marked, my early youth . . . Truth here was an artistic, not moral, requirement . . . It involved . . . writing about myself, my feelings, my actions.â
And so she assembled the puzzle pieces of her singular past into a picture of her âunsentimental education.â We learn of a childhood spent alone with her father, âa stranded man of the worldâ living a life of âungenteel poverty in quite grand surroundingsââa château deep in the German countrysideâwith wine but little else for him and his young daughter to hold body and soul together. We learn of her return to Italy and her mother, âthe one character I wished to keep minor and knew all along that it could not be done,â and the dark secret consuming her motherâs life.
Finally, she tells us how she lived with and learned from Aldous and Maria Huxley on the French Riviera, developing the sense of purpose and determination that made her the great writer she would become.
BOOKER PRIZE SHORTLIST: Bedfordâs autobiographical historical fiction novel paints a vivid picture of life and family in 1920s Europe between WW1 and WW2.
âHer writing is like the conversation of a clever, worldly friend who we wish would come by more often.â âThe New Yorker
Sybille Bedford placed the ambiguous and inescapable stuff of her own life at the center of her fiction, and in Jigsawâher fourth and final novel, which was shortlisted for the 1989 Booker Prizeâshe did it with particular artistry.
âWhat I had in mind,â she was later to say, âwas to build a novel out of the events and people who had made up, and marked, my early youth . . . Truth here was an artistic, not moral, requirement . . . It involved . . . writing about myself, my feelings, my actions.â
And so she assembled the puzzle pieces of her singular past into a picture of her âunsentimental education.â We learn of a childhood spent alone with her father, âa stranded man of the worldâ living a life of âungenteel poverty in quite grand surroundingsââa château deep in the German countrysideâwith wine but little else for him and his young daughter to hold body and soul together. We learn of her return to Italy and her mother, âthe one character I wished to keep minor and knew all along that it could not be done,â and the dark secret consuming her motherâs life.
Finally, she tells us how she lived with and learned from Aldous and Maria Huxley on the French Riviera, developing the sense of purpose and determination that made her the great writer she would become.