The Far Cry by Emma Smith (Readers' Union 1951; originally published by MacGibbon & Kee in 1949)

I'm not sure when or how I acquired this book, but it's been on my shelf for many years.  With the exception of a single blurb on the back cover ("Hers will one day be a very important name indeed" -- New Stateman), the jacket reveals nothing about the book or its author -- no cover image, no description of the book, no bio of the author. Only the title: The Far Cry.

It's interesting to read a book without any of the basic information or assumptions one usually enters a book with --  where, when, who, what -- all of those basic orienting facts.  Is this ignorance an asset or a detriment?  The reader must initially work a little harder, perhaps, to establish a connection with the book, but perhaps this connection, once established, is stronger and deeper than usual.  The reader must read more carefully in order to conjure a world from the blank slate . . .

For some reason I stopped writing about this book before describing its content, about which I have no memory whatsoever.  Who, and what, was it about?  Did I like it?  I have no idea.  I shall have to glance through its pages and hope that something about it comes back to me.

  (I did and it didn't.)