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Paperback Past Imperfect Book

ISBN: 1250020379

ISBN13: 9781250020376

Past Imperfect

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Format: Paperback

Condition: Very Good

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Book Overview

From the creator of the Emmy Award-winning Downton Abbey...

"Damian Baxter was a friend of mine at Cambridge. We met around the time when I was doing the Season at the end of the Sixties. I introduced him to some of the girls. They took him up, and we ran about together in London for a while...."

Nearly forty years later, the narrator hates Damian Baxter and would gladly forget their disastrous last encounter...

Customer Reviews

5 ratings

What Became of Our Youth and Dreams?

Julian Fellowes did not let me down after being enthralled with his previous book "Snobs". The narrator has a deathbed request made by an ex-friend, a man from his youthful past, their rift never repaired. Not only is the quarrel longstanding, should the narrator decide to take on the deathbed assignment it will mean confronting many of his own unresolved issues from that same summer involving the same people. Julian Fellowes always writes witty, smart repartee and this book is no exception. Compared to his previous "Snobs" this book has a prevalent undercurrent of regret, inner turmoil and lost chances that was not present in "Snobs". However, this is no means should turn the potential reader away. This is a fascinating account of the social mores of 1968 that are on the cusp of radical change. It will be the last, true "Debutante Season". The debs know this will be their best chance to snare a rich (and hopefully titled) high society husband in their short rounds of balls, galas, breakfasts in all the "right places". Pressure builds as the debs entire future depends upon impressing and integrating themselves with not only the right man, but his family. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys Brit fiction. Enjoy the read!

Unexpectedly Moving

Rather like Trollope. Certainly as adept at describing the styles, wiles and myriad emotions of his youth in 50's-70's London. I'm a fan of Fellowes, a chilly, dry writer, and was delighted how well he kept me interested in his characters, and their fates, striking an arrow to the heart at the end.

Present Perfect

This book was a great read. I was predisposed to like it because I enjoyed his previous book "Snob". I very quickly got caught up in the deftly drawn characters and had trouble putting the book down to go to sleep. I'm a psychologist and I found the authors depiction of the characters motives believable and enjoyable. When I began the book, I couldn't imagine that the author would be able to tie up all the loose ends and hints in a credible way, but Fellowes pulled it off! I wish I had another book by him to read right now.

Quaint practices of a time past - a great read

The subject of Julian Fellowes' "Past Imperfect" may not seem interesting or terribly relevant to readers of our time, other than hardened snobs or Brits with a gauche fascination for the quaint practices of the upper classes in the late 60s and early 70s. These were times when debutante balls were ritually held each year to herald the coming out of the children of the privileged classes to high society, where they would hopefully meet and find their life partners from compatible backgrounds. All this may sound rather feudal but the fact that this social circle co-existed not so many decades ago with the generation of the great unwashed - think pop star Marianne Faithfull, the Rolling Stones and their drug fueled escapades - testify to there being in reality two Englands, one looking to the future for change and the other facing backwards and clinging desperately to the failing efficacy of secret codes that governed their conduct in life. Fellowes who wrote the screenplay for Robert Altman's classic "Gosford Park" is in familiar territory and clearly in his element. His indictment of the foolish pretensions of the upper classes is nothing less than devastating - Damien Baxter may be a loathsome adventurer, a ruthless social climber bent on muscling his way into a circle he doesn't belong to, somebody who would betray his friend (in this case our curiously unnamed narrator) without a thought when it suited him but it is he who finally becomes disgustingly rich and successful with a vast fortune to leave behind to his sprog...provided he or she can be identified. The search for his biological heir becomes the motor that would drive the plot of the novel. What happens to the huge cast of Damien's social betters ? They become - as our narrator would discover - sad and failed parodies of their past. Isn't life ironic ? Damien the anti-hero whom we should despise gets to cock a snook at the snobs. Fellowes writes like a dream. His characters are cut outs from late period dramas but aren't remotely stereotypical. There are shades of Daisy Buchanan (heroine of "The Great Gatsby") in Lady Serena Gresham - one of Damien's many female victims and our narrator's one true love - her lack of moral courage, a quality the privileged classes never needed - damned her among the callous and morally bankrupt. Fellowes too understands suspense like a mystery writer, leaving the unveiling of the infamous "Estoril incident" to the last act which while hardly novel or surprising still packs a decent punch. A little overlong perhaps but Fellowes' gorgeous prose, cunning humour and splendid characters make "Past Imperfect" a highly entertaining read.

Vexingly Perfect

Truly, one of those hugely enjoyable books that leave you wishing it were twice as long. It both made me laugh out loud repeatedly -- and I am, you might say, a tough crowd -- and cry another three or four times besides. Hopping back and forth between a modern England, in which the narrator finds himself looking up old friends on Wikipedia and passing along his email address to a great lady, the better to get directions to her manor for a weekend stay, and the glorious debutante season, some 40 years previous, which the narrator had spent as a reliable, if under-valued "deb's delight." Fellowes is an adept prose stylist, with a telling eye for detail and human foibles, but as with "Snobs," his inherent affection for his characters, however foolish they may be, keep you hoping they will muddle through with a minimum of humiliation. I suppose I should be sorry that Fellowes goes to such trouble to craft his stories with such care and wit, if only because it clearly takes him a good deal of time to get things just so, and in the meantime, we have no option but to wait patiently, and perhaps re-read our favorite Austen a few dozen times. There is not another like him writing on either side of the Atlantic, more is the pity.
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