When I read the reviews, and the authors of those reviews, on tne inside pages of this book, I thought I was in for an unmissable treat. But I must have missed the point somewhere along the line. I found the characterisation of an English village and its life, and the characters themselves interesting but something of a caricature. The religious theme, which emerged as the novel progressed, remained a puzzling one for me, despite having been raised solidly CofE (lapsed now). I didn't exactly plough through it, but I wasn't sorry when I got to the - somewhat curious - end. ( )

I did enjoy some of the characters and plot elements, and Vickers's descriptions of nature are often really beautifully written. But God? Really? And the evasive talk about some elements he would rewrite now and so forth...really? This aspect of the novel didn't work for me at all.

What I liked about this book was the Englishness of it -- the characters and scenes that inhabit so many small towns. I've seen places like this when I lived in England, but that was (mumble-mumble) years ago, in another century, another world. You catch glimpses in Agatha Christie stories or even MC Beaton's books. That was the bit of the book which enchanted me. The actual story-line itself, and many of the characters, didn't grab me quite as much.

I do have to admit it took me a while to pick this book off the TBR pile because in my world "GoLYTELY" is a bowel cleanser. ( )

There are two pages of review quotes at the beginning of my paperback copy of this book, and several on the back cover, and I can’t help feeling that each of the contributors has found something within that I missed. While readable, Mr. Golightly’s Holiday was nowhere near as strong, thoughtful, or beautifully written as Miss Garnet’s Angel, which had a deft, light touch to the sadness and vivid, un-stereotyped characters.

The premise of this one feels like a Reader’s Digest magazine story; a bit too kitsch to be taken seriously, despite the philosophy which, while elbowed-in in places, was at least thought provoking.

Mr Golightly is God. There’s no attempt at mystery in this matter; he is a white, good natured older gentleman (and Vickers could have thought a bit harder before validating that stereotype) who has come to the village of Great Calne, in Dartmoor, to attempt to write a ‘new bestseller’. Procrastination, village life, cryptic emails and writer’s block all conspire to keep him in a state ranging from benign frustration to deep sorrow over remembered loss, while becoming embroiled in a local matter of family history.

Some of it is clever, much of it is thoughtful, sadness is well-evoked, and the language is always readable, but most of the characters lack conviction and this really didn’t take off for me at all.

Recommendation: read Miss Garnet’s Angel and decide if you like Salley Vickers' style enough to read something less engaging before reading Mr. Golightly’s Holiday. ( )

When this book was given to me I anticipated something along the lines of a modern Miss Read. I was definitely wrong. What I did find was a reminder of something long forgotten - one of the reasons, many years ago, why I abandoned my attempts at classical literature and returned to the comfort of children's books. One of the things I found most difficult to cope with in literature was what I called "author omnipotence" - the sense that the author not only knows more than his/her characters, but that s/he is morally and intellectually superior. The writing always seemed to carry a slightly ironic cynicism about the "human condition" which placed the author in a position above everything being written about. I seriously struggled with that. Children's books, by contrast, I found very different. In the Famous Five, for example (okay, yes, I know!), the characters were vital and important - they mattered. What they did mattered; it wasn't all depressingly predictable due to the limitations of human nature. To take a more modern example, David Almond fills his characters with an almost mystic urgency; a magical reality of possibility.

So I'm afraid Sally Vickers managed to set my teeth on edge from the beginning. Some of the characters did become more sympathetic and interesting over time, but it wasn't quite enough to compensate for the irritation. The passages toward the end are moving, but also, to me, a little melodramatic and unnecessary. And somehow I was not prepared for the startling conclusion. I didn't see it coming until Mr Golightly was packing to leave. In hindsight I find it fascinating to see a few of the levels at which the book is working, but even so, the premise somehow fails to work for me, which is a shame. One thing is certain - and also ironic - Mr Golightly appears to have a more refreshing view on his fellow characters than the narration! ( )