Eve was a member of a very nice book group in Islington, six or seven women and one rather beleaguered man, who met in each other's houses—one of the pleasures of it was seeing the insides of a whole range of other people's houses. Over the last six months the book group had enjoyed two doorstop historical novels—both Victorian, mostly about sex—by contemporary novelists, last year's Booker winner about the man in the boat with the animals, a Forster novel, the big multicultural bestseller which most people in the group got only halfway through, and a very nice novel about Southwold. Michael disapproved of the book group. He thought it bourgeois beyond belief. But Eve was a minor celebrity at the book group, being an author herself. It gave her a definite authoritative edge, which half of the group nodded to and most of them secretly resented, she sensed.
--Ali Smith, The Accidental
What's the very nice novel about Southwold?
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