On of my local thrift shops had a bag sale last Thursday night to celebrate the beginning of the Christmas shopping season. For $5, I filled a plastic grocery bag with books. I was pleased to find, along with a Norton Anthology of Theory & Criticism, a number of New Canadian Library editions, including As For Me and My House by Sinclair Ross.
As For Me and My House has been in my mental TBR for years. The title has popped up again and again on my radar. So, on Friday, I read it.
It's a small book, not more than a few hundred pages. The setting is domestic. The plot is simple; an unhappy preacher's wife feels unloved by her husband. She views her neighbours cynically and suspects her husband of an affair. In the midst of her emotional turmoil, she tries to keep her family fed and tend a garden patch in the dusty soil of the depression-era Prairies. The story is told through a journal, leaving the reader to wonder how true and accurate the relayed events actually are.
I didn't love this book, but I didn't hate it either. I did like it. It filled an enjoyable two hours and I may even read it again someday.
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