I like Sandy Toksvig very much, her feminism, her humour, her wit and her take on reality. I can only say that I am glad she wrote this book quite a while ago and that her writing has improved since then.
At times this felt not like a novel but a feminist tract, and not in a good way. Too preachy by half.
Her main characters are so polarly opposite that they could have been drawn on a chart. One passive suburban housefwife and mother, dumpy, dreary and good, and the other :tall, beautiful and hiding the dreadful secret of being a lesbian. Oh dear. Shock horror. Maybe when the book was written, but now it all seems very dated. It is interesting at first when we try and find out why Mrs dumpy and dreary is in prison, and writing to Ms tall and secretive, and as the story unfolds – it’s an epistolary tale, though rather one sided, we begin to really feel for our incarcerated victim. There are moments of grim humour, and some (un)intended? bible bashing, and a few quite brilliant set pieces, but in the end the book didn’t add up for me. The title was a bit of a let down too when we finally came to the explanation.
If you would still like to read it, I will send you my copy. See if we agree!