English master is killed by an arrow at a small private boys' boarding
school. Jennings notwithstanding, I've never been able to look on
boarding schools with anything but horror and loathing, and St. Asprey's
is no exception. Bruce hits his stride now and again with depictions of
the efficient gossip network and the colourful working-class characters
that service the school, but the overall effect is a dreary grey. Why
are so many English novels of the Sixties so morose?
Jon.
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