'this sordid, sensual, gradual deterioration of a human soul'
By sally tarbox on 13 Jun. 2014
Format: Paperback
The novel opens with Sara Monday being sent to jail, described by the judge as an 'unhappy example of that laxity and contempt for all religious principle and social obligation.'
In her narrative, however, we come to know - and somewhat understand - Sara. From her youth, qualifying as a cook and marrying the son of the house, her encounters with other individuals, up to her unfortunate end, Sara develops into an extraordinarily kind and generous person...
I should be interested to read the other two books in this trilogy, each based around one of the characters in the story.
Very well written and compelling. Don't know if I'm the only one to think this, but Cary's writing puts me in mind of that of Barbara Comyns (without Comyns' humour or peculiar grammar). ( )

This is a joy of a book. Sara Monday is one of the most honestly created characters in English literature. She is at her most loveable when she is at her most despicable. I just couldn't help but love her, warts and all. She is probably more an Everywoman character more than most would like to admit. ( )

This is a joy of a book. Sara Monday is one of the most honestly created characters in English literature. She is at her most loveable when she is at her most despicable. I just couldn't help but love her, warts and all. She is probably more an Everywoman character more than most would like to admit. ( )

This is a joy of a book. Sara Monday is one of the most honestly created characters in English literature. She is at her most loveable when she is at her most despicable. I just couldn't help but love her, warts and all. She is probably more an Everywoman character more than most would like to admit. ( )

Sara Monday is a sweet-natured rogue, a kind of 20th century Moll Flanders, and this is the story of her career as cook, wife, artist's muse and... well, no spoilers. Sara always seems to turn her setbacks into benefits to herself and to those she loves; it's a pleasure to see how her mind works. She is, however, a surprise to herself--hence the title.

One of the beauties of the book is Sara's gift of description. Here is a random sample:

The sun was so bright as a new gas-mantle--you couldn't look at it even through your eyelashes, and the sand so bright gold as deep-fried potatoes. The sky was like washed-out Jap silk and there were just a few little clouds coming out on it like down feathers out of an old cushion; the rocks were so warm as new gingerbread cakes and the sea had a melty thick look, like oven glass. ( )