My Review: A few, a precious few only, moments in life are trapped in the diamond facets of unforgettability. The moments that, in the movie we're all directing inside our heads at any given moment, define our character. In all senses of that word. Be they happy, sad, public, private, we all have them; very very few of us talk much about them; and almost no one makes art from them. Haunted by his experiences at Passchendaele, Birkin has returned from the war with a conspicuous facial twitch. The doctors tell him it may get better, and he believes then that time will “clean [him] up”; indeed, his escape to the idyllic Yorkshire countryside proves to be cathartic.

Netflix has yet again let me down. There is a movie from 1987 starring Kenneth Branagh and Colin Firth, but Netflix does not have it. At this point it appears I will have to buy it to see it. I can only hope that they do the book justice. Never has such a short novel impacted me so profoundly, dramatically, making me reflect on a few golden days in my past, my own in which I can close my eyes and smell the dust, taste the feint salt on her upper lip, hear the voices, see faces that moments ago would have been obscured by the fog of time, feel the sun on my face, warming me in the illusion that life will surely last forever: "We can ask and ask but we can't have again what once seemed ours for ever--the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on a belfry floor, a remembered voice, the touch of a hand, a loved face. They've gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass." This is the sort of efficient novella that demands a short, incisive review full of judiciously-chosen adjectives, and presumably that's what it will get if MJ ever gets around to reading it. In my case, however, it's unfortunately one of those texts that is going to send me off on a long personal anecdote, for which I offer advance apologies. I intend to read some novels that are first World War based for this year’s anniversary and this one is the first. It is a novella by a rather eccentric teacher turned writer which absolutely captures a time and place. The plot is straightforward. Tom Birkin is a WW1 veteran who was injured at Passchendaele and is troubled by his memories and dreams and by a failed marriage. It is the summer of 1920 and Birkin has taken a job in the remote Yorkshire village of Oxgodby. He is to uncover a medieval mural that has been painted over for many years. His living accommodation is the belfry of the Church. Nearby another war veteran, James Moon is digging for a lost grave which may hold some sort of secret because it was placed outside of the churchyard. He also has his scars from the war.His discoveries of the community, of himself, his new friends, during his month-long stay in the village, enables him to walk away and recover from his own emotional wasteland. Tom’s friendship with Charles Moon (another veteran hired to uncover a lost grave on the premises), was ‘guy-bonding-enduring’. Even before I read the first line of the novel, I was enchanted with his chosen epigraphs. The second one is the famous A E Housman line that Roger Zelazny used to describe a post-apocalyptic world ("For a Breath I Tarry") . Tom Birkin, the narrator of the story, is himself the survivor of an apocalypse: the slaughter of the First World War in the trenches of France. Tom has returned to England with both visible and invisible scars. He takes a summer job in a small village in Yorkshire. As a highly skilled restaurateur hired to uncover an ancient mural in the local church, Tom hopes that by immersing himself in the work that he loves, he can heal the wounds left by the war and by a failed marriage.

It is summer, 1920, and, as Tom Birkin watches, Moon has been digging into the North Yorkshire turf of Oxgodby for several hours, taking his time. Then Birkin tells the reader: There is sadness ….a death …. some mystery…. art revealed…conflicted feelings….powerful memories…..but really….. Birkin tells his story as he recalls these memories sixty years later. That month in Oxgodby with its kind people, warm summer days and nights, new friendships, infatuation with the vicar's wife, and a yet unknown masterpiece he is restoring, all contribute to the healing of his psyche. Unlike the people being uncovered in the mural of the apocalypse, sinners falling into hell, Tom is distancing himself from the hell of war. This small novel is about those forgotten moments, the moments that fade into nameless places we have passed by, sensations that have coursed through us, and emotions that we still feel.Before I’ve wrongly convinced you that this is a somber tale, let me say it’s not at all! Wistful and nostalgic? Yes. Hopeful? Most definitely. Will you be thinking about your own life stories, the chances offered and perhaps passed by? Of course. But it will also reveal to you how those little moments in the past have shaped you into the person you are right now. There are still moments there to grab. You’re not done yet. The plot concerns Tom Birkin, a World War I veteran employed to uncover a mural in a village church that was thought to exist under coats of whitewash. At the same time another veteran is employed to look for a grave beyond the churchyard walls. Though Birkin is an unbeliever, there is prevalent religious symbolism throughout the book, mainly dealing with judgement. The novel explores themes of England's loss of spirituality after the war, and of happiness, melancholy, and nostalgia as Birkin recalls the summer uncovering the mural, when he healed from his wartime experiences and a broken marriage. When The Mookse and the Gripes group decided to revisit the 1980 Booker shortlist, this was the book I most looked forward to reading, and it did not disappoint, except that it was over too soon. I intend to read some novels that are first World War based for this year’s anniversary and this one is the first. It is a novella by a rather eccentric teach