Ann Thwaite also wrote about F Hodgeson Burnett and Emily Tennyson, and I bought this because both of those were brilliant reads. Some of my problem with this was that Milne had - apparantly - a tactful, neutral personality, which made his life read a little blandly. ( )

This is a rich, well-researched, engaging biography of a writer whose breadth of work extends far beyond the few children's stories for which he is so famous. Her subject, of course, is easy to relate to - Milne was not an altogether completely nice man, perhaps, but he was a gentleman, a wit - in writing, most certainly - a family man, an idealist, and best of all from a biographers viewpoint, had a life with enough facets to keep a reader more than interested while waiting to hear about Pooh. In fact, by the end of her book, one sympathises with Milne's position on the bear, and resolves to read at least one other book or play by the man, just to even the score a little.

Thwaite shows us the whole man, unapologetically; His enmity of Wodehouse during the war was surprising and saddening; more so - despite Thwaite's attempt not to bias the reader in the matter of Milne's relationship with his son - is the knowledge that the relationship between this well-loved children's author and the son who's fictional namesake so delights us, soured so completely. It seems a waste and a shame, and while it is not Thwaite's fault, the fact remains that despite the excellence of this biography, I would have preferred not to have read it at all.

Bother. ( )