Short Takes

The Sister
By Poppy Adams
Knopf, 273 pp., $23.95

Ginny, the unreliable narrator at the center of this splendid first novel, seems at first merely fussy, shy of strangers, and unused to change. But gradually and subtly she begins to appear more severely limited in her abilities and perceptions.

When her sister, Vivi, who has been absent from the family home, a crumbling Dorset mansion, for almost 50 years, returns, she must make adjustments to her precisely and primly ordered routine. Vivi, the younger sister, now 67, was, as a child, the adventurous, clever, glamorous one. Ginny was the sensible, scientific, levelheaded one. Their father, Clive, was an authority on moths who used the attics of the grand house to breed and study the insects. Ginny, his helper as a child, continued his research as an adult, becoming known locally as "the Moth Woman." Maud, their mother, drank. Ginny worshipped Vivi, was flattered and thrilled to be allowed to tag along after her. Now, unwillingly, she must follow as Vivi leads her through a reinterpretation of the past and a creation of the future.

The great beauty of the novel lies in Ginny's voice, perfectly clear, controlled, and calm. She is keenly aware of her own deficiencies. "I am, and always have been, hopeless at social expression. Our mother, Maud, was a master. She'd say all the right things and make all the right faces at exactly the right times." Ginny, unable to do this, understands that "It's partly why people don't feel comfortable around me." With elegant restraint, Poppy Adams suggests that a reader consider the tragic family history that was constructed to protect Ginny and further consider the success of this strategy. This is a brilliant narrative performance.

A Voyage Round John Mortimer
By Valerie Grove
Viking, 560 pp., $27.95

The title of this exhaustive but exhilarating biography derives from one of author John Mortimer's most endearing and personal works, "A Voyage Round My Father," a radio, television, and stage play that focused on his eccentric, blind, barrister father, Clifford. Like his admired and adored father, John became a barrister, and eventually blind, but he allowed his eccentricities a much broader scope.

An only child, Mortimer was treated with rare parental indulgence and understanding, even when he was sent down from Oxford for homosexual indiscretions. This period was followed by a long and stormy marriage to Penelope, a beautiful, older, clever woman who already had four children by three men. She promptly produced two more. The large Mortimer brood became material for both John and Penelope, as they cannibalized the marriage in fiction and drama. During their long, stormy union, punctuated by smooth public performances, brief separations, adulteries, and reconciliations, Penelope wrote ("The Pumpkin Eater"), drank, and despaired, while John prodigiously produced plays, novels, and memoirs.

He also became a fierce public defender of literary freedom. In late middle age, he divorced Penelope and married the much younger Penny II. Happily attached to her but constantly surrounded by other adoring women, he continued his flamboyant career, creating the memorable "Rumpole of the Bailey" on the page and TV screen. He continues at 85 to make public appearances, reading from his works and relishing the acclaim he has sought and received during his long and entertaining life.

A Gentleman's Guide to Graceful Living: A Novel
By Michael Dahlie
Norton, 281 pp., $23.95

Arthur, the gentle man at the center of this surprising novel, is a bumbler and a buffoon. After his cheating wife dumps him, Arthur notices what is already clear to the reader, that he is despised by his family for ruining the family business, mocked by his fishing pals for burning down their clubhouse, and dismissed by women for his incompetence.

Needing to distance himself from his familiar flops and failures, Arthur accepts an ancient invitation to visit an old school chum in France. After being ignored, used, and accused by his absent host, and pursued by the French authorities, Arthur returns to the illusory safety of home. But his return and a family vacation offer up only more denigration, humiliation, and disgrace. A reader waits and waits for Arthur to assert himself, as he always promises he will.

But instead of taking action, Arthur takes stock of himself. Rather than plotting revenge on his false friends and feral family, he finds new friends, people, including a jolly woman, who actually like him.

Arthur, a weak and watered-down blueblood who never needed to know himself, achieves a hard-won bit of self-knowledge and even a little joy. This unexpected and unusual turn of the worm gives this light comic novel some weight.

Barbara Fisher is a freelance critic who lives in New York.