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"A curmudgeonly but charming old woman, her estranged grandson, and a colony of penguins proves it's never too late to be the person you want to be in this rich, heartwarming story from the acclaimed author of Ellie and the Harpmaker. Eighty-five-year-old Veronica McCreedy is estranged from her family and wants to find a worthwhile cause to leave her fortune to. When she sees a documentary about penguins being studied in Antarctica, she tells the scientists she's coming to visit-and won't take no for an answer. Shortly after arriving, she convinces the reluctant team to rescue an orphaned baby penguin. He becomes part of life at the base, and Veronica's closed heart starts to open. Her grandson, Patrick, follows Veronica to Antarctica to make one last attempt to get to know his grandmother. Together, Veronica, Patrick, and even the scientists learn what family, love, and connection are all about"--… (altro)
One of those light hearted books that are a genre. Families and characters who do something unusual to "learn" something about life. It was an easy and fun read - nothing majorly awful was ever going to happen. ( )
This book dealt with people from various generations. The main character decided to do something out of character for herself, and was rewarded greatly by her decision. The book deals with childlessness, and family, and regrets. I enjoyed it. ( )
Veronica is described as “curmudgeonly but charming.” I think “curmudgeonly” outweighs “charming,” which made it difficult to enjoy the book since I didn’t care for or feel connected to Veronica. Cranky, critical, bitter: this was Veronica for much of the novel. In diary entries from her teen years we learn what caused her to have her hard-hearted outlook on life, and about halfway through the novel we discover what changes that outlook. Not a spoiler if you read the title – it’s penguins.
I like a book with a feel-good ending, but it needs to be more than a simple and predictable story. And I didn’t appreciate the obvious lecture in the middle about climate change. As others have said, it’s a female version of “ A Man Called Ove” (which I also didn’t care for due to that same type of bitter and cranky main character).
There is a nice set of discussion questions at the end of the book, so it would make a good book for book clubs, which is the reason I read this. ( )
The airport is full of overpackaged and overpriced products and people in uniform who call me "dear," which is most infuriating. I am many things, but I am certainly not a dear.
"They have no fear of humans," she explains. "Which is extremely handy for us." "Excellent!" I say, stepping closer to a little huddle who bear some resemblance to a posse of diminutive youngsters having a cigarette break.
The eyes focused immediately on me, slide across to Dietrich in an accusatory manner then back to me.
No matter Terry says, I can't help being wary of Dietrich. Unlike anyone else here, I've lived through the war. These things make you realize there's a monster lurking in all of us. One may smile and smile and yet be a villain. I shall give this Dietrich a wide berth.
...I can hear a soft murmuring of voices. I don't know how long I've been asleep. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, then reality filters through and spreads a smile on my face. I am in Antarctica, my aim to embark on a final great adventure and to thoroughly enjoy it; my mission to help the Adelie penguins.
There's a ripple of knowing laughter here like the acceptance of a well-explored truth.
"Help yourself, Veronica." It is my first breakfast here. Mountainous supplies of hot food are on the table: bacon, eggs, baked beans, haash browns and toast. The emphasis is on quantity rather than quality. Every item is of the colorless and defrosted variety. The scientists are tucking in as if it's manna from heaven. Presumably, such elephantine helpings are necessary to set everyone up for the day.
The air is full of unexpressed resentment toward me.
Veronica McCreedy is not one to be overcome by the machinations of small-minded people. I experience a delightful stab of victory.
As soon as I step outside, the air seizes my lungs. It is most invigorating. Sunlight glances off the snow in a joyous dance of silvery whites.
I scowl at her. I have no wish to talk about the manifold tragedies of my life. I'm well aware that, to a person like Terry, I am living proof that money doesn't make you happy. Comfortable, certainly. Healthy and long-lived, yes, if you are lucky. Happy? Hardly.
The mountains are grouped in the distance, white capped and majestic. Their south-facing slopes are draped in ragged shawls of snow. The half-moon lake glints the palest turquoise. The fine line of land beyond is just visible, dividing it from the sea. In the foreground, the rocks flaunt their gaudy emblazonment of multicolored lichens. Every tuft and fiber stands out in the morning sunlight. The snow is patchy here; packed into every nook and cranny, gathered in frills against the stones, winding through the gullies.
The penguins exude joie de vivre.
They look insanely happy.
It is a woman's prerogative to change her mind.
I do hate when people fuss.
Like her harshness was a kind of coat she wrapped tightly round herself so nobody could see what was underneath.
You don't know anything about other people really, do you? Even the ones you know well, you don't really have much of an idea about what makes them tick.
Life is a careful balance of what you let out and what you hold in.
Sometimes memories gather dust in the back crevices of your mind. Sometimes they hover over you like shadows. Sometimes they come after you with a club.
I will say this for myself: I am good at getting my own way.
Why does the future always have to come busting in and spoil everything? Life always throws problems at you, doesn't it? Just when everything's going swimmingly, another problem pops up, and there you are, trying your darnedest to work out what the hell you can do about it.
He springs from his chair. "You'd do that?" He reminds me of a big, bouncy breed of dog who has been offered his favorite toy.
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But now, for a moment, Veronica steps back inside his head. A smile hovers on his lips. Her image is fresh and clear. Beautiful Veronica! Her eyes burn with determination as she strides through the Derbyshire countryside, her poppy-colored dress blowing in the breeze. Veronica: true, headstrong and gloriously vivid. How she shines! No matter what life throws at her, she will defy the odds. Whatever she does, she will be extraordinary.
"A curmudgeonly but charming old woman, her estranged grandson, and a colony of penguins proves it's never too late to be the person you want to be in this rich, heartwarming story from the acclaimed author of Ellie and the Harpmaker. Eighty-five-year-old Veronica McCreedy is estranged from her family and wants to find a worthwhile cause to leave her fortune to. When she sees a documentary about penguins being studied in Antarctica, she tells the scientists she's coming to visit-and won't take no for an answer. Shortly after arriving, she convinces the reluctant team to rescue an orphaned baby penguin. He becomes part of life at the base, and Veronica's closed heart starts to open. Her grandson, Patrick, follows Veronica to Antarctica to make one last attempt to get to know his grandmother. Together, Veronica, Patrick, and even the scientists learn what family, love, and connection are all about"--
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