the atmosphere of an insular world

Was re-reading one of my favourite books, The Travelling Hornplayer by Barbara Trapido. IT's like a 1990s Brideshead Revisited, I do truly love it. It had been a few years, so it was nice to pick up on a few different details, different slants on the same characters from earlier novels (Trapido recycles her characters nicely, which I appreciate).

What always strikes me about her books is that her characters, whilst completely REAL, seem to occupy a world of their own, with a complete inner life that is separate to the normal woes and angst of modern life. Modern life and it's paraphenelia is referred to (mobile phones and the like) but you always feel as though these people are in a world of their own, due to their ability to always meet interesting people and make social/culturally filling connections. Anyone in the novel that comes from a disadvantaged background (like Izzy in this book) gets out of it through sheer talent. It's not a world where there are no barriers or they have unrealistic good luck, but... but... I can't explain it. It's just a lovely little world that I'd enjoy occupying, where the difficult things in life that are ever encountered are stupid people, or selfish people, or snobby people. There is never any pollution or climate change or political concerns.

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