Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont

Within a few paragraphs, I knew I was in good hands. The hands of a writer at the top of her game, exhibiting perfect control without apparent effort. The story is set in late-1960’s London and follows the still estimable Laura Palfrey (we assume she was once estimable from her handful of memories of married life in Burma) as she settles into the Claremont Hotel as one of its elderly residential guests. Her routine livens up when, on one of her forays outside, she befriends Ludo Myers, a would-be writer the same age as her grandson. The humor—understated zingers, “bits” of comedy gold—is perfectly balanced with a tone of, I won’t say sadness, but an acceptance of the fact that one’s way of life has died and one is merely waiting to follow. I don’t think I truly understood the term “bittersweet” until I finished the last paragraph. Elizabeth Taylor is my new literary crush and I plan to read one of her novels each month, like savoring treats from a box of exquisite chocolates.