Crusoe’s Daughter
by Jane Gardam
You know how when you’re 15, everything is SO important? You don’t just read a book; you fall madly, passionately and desperately in love with a book. This is a time defined by periods, breasts, boys and BFFs – a time when a book about a young girl learning about sexuality hits the mark exactly. Although if I’m honest, we may be past 15, but it’s STILL all about periods, breasts, boys and BFFs. It’s just that now, there are cocktails involved, the boys have facial hair and the panic about periods is NOT getting them. But I digress.
Jane Gardam’s “Crusoe’s Daughter” is the story of Polly Flint, an intelligent but isolated girl at that clichéd “verge of womanhood”. I read it at exactly that same moment in my life; that time when the body is the enemy.
“I found that blood was pouring all down my legs. . . . Aunt Mary … drew herself up to the height of the ceiling and said, 'I shall get Frances,' and vanished, and I stood drunk and shaking.”