Thrush Green by Miss Read

A few weeks back I posted a review of the second of the Thrush Green books, Winter in Thrush Green. When I saw that I could read the first book via a Kindle Unlimited free trial, I jumped at the chance. I'm so glad I got to read the lovely introduction to the series.

The title might as well have been "The Fair at Thrush Green" because many of the events are connected to the magical day in May when Mrs. Curdle's fair comes to town. First we see it through the eyes of a little boy:

He lay there for a minute, beneath his tumbled bedclothes, savoring the excitement. His mind's eye saw again, with the sharp clarity of a six-year-old, the battered galloping horses with flaring nostrils, the glittering brass posts, twisted like giant sugar sticks, the dizzying red and yellow swing boats and the snakes of black rope that coiled across the bruised grass of Thrush Green waiting to ensnare the feet of the bedazzled. (p. 3)

Then we see it through the eyes of  the aging fair owner, the town physician, a pair of young lovers, a cantankerous spinster, and a lonely girl. Miss Read (née Dora Jessie Saint, 1913-2012) wonderfully describes human emotions without sentimentality. Even the way she writes about the lovers is fresh and light (none of the sweaty palms and goose bumps of most romantic Christian fiction.)

He knew, with a deep sense of wonder and inner comfort that was to remain with him all his life, that the girl before him was his forever, to be as essential to him, as much part of him, as his hand or eye. (p. 115)

Though people drink, smoke and swear on occasion, this is an utterly charming community that you will learn to love. Many of the characters face their trials bravely, cheerfully, and with an eye to serving others that I find absolutely refreshing in comparison to the self-absorbed characters in much modern fiction.

There are witticisms such as the food poisoning inflicted by the eccentric Dotty Harmer. Her neighbors are so used to it that they affectionately call it "Dolly's Collywobbles." The writing is gently lyrical: A gray squirrel darted up a tree with breath-taking ease, and the young man watched it leaping from bough to bough, as light and airy as a puff of gray smoke. (p.91)

Blessed are those who have access to these books. I will not be paying $10 each for the Kindle versions, so hope to find some of them when I'm in the U.S. next year. One of the commenters from the original post said she's been collecting all of them to read in order. A splendid idea!

Blessings,