In 1980, a relative unknown named Penelope Fitzgerald surprised the London literary establishment by getting shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize for her second novel, The Bookshop. The author—61, recently widowed, mother of three, the author of two biographies as well as a previous novel—was an unlikely comer. Critics were largely dismissive, and Fitzgerald even thought her publisher was mistaken in sending her the news—this was impossible. Continue reading at 'Slate'
[ Slate | 2014-11-07 00:00:00 UTC ]