Pretentious tosh

[Sprocket]

Browsing in Waterstone's sadly reduced gardening section today, I came across a book called "The Morville Hours: the Story of a Garden", by one Katherine Swift. I took it from the shelf. One reviewer had described it as "moving", according to the back of the dust-jacket. I opened it at random, by chance at the beginning of a chapter. I read its opening sentence: "I am a water-beetle, suspended on a meniscus of time." "Fuck off!" I muttered, as I put it back. What a load of pretentious cobblers! I didn't, in the end, buy anything.