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A gently heartbreaking tale, And Now Good-bye (1931) foreshadows the tone, features, and storyline that may be found in James Hilton's more well-known novels, like Goodbye, Mr. Chips, and Lost Horizon (published in 1933 and 1934, respectively). The London-Manchester train struck a wagon that had strayed onto the main line from a siding on that chilly November morning, which was dazzling with sunshine and covered the fields in a light dusting of snow. The engine and the first two coaches derailed; cinders that were thrown from the debris started a fire that killed 14 people in the first coach. Sadly, some were not immediately slain. It was odd that there were still two burned bodies of women, both utterly unaccounted for, even after all the identities of those who might have been on that specific train on that particular morning had been gathered and scrutinized. But the book's mournful beauty is more about the atmosphere than what actually occurs. It is, unfortunately, what does not occur. As with Howat's intimidating sister-in-law, who has "a threatening optimism that was not quite matched by a sense of humor," he expertly evokes his minor characters in one or two telling existences.
A gently heartbreaking tale, And Now Good-bye (1931) foreshadows the tone, features, and storyline that may be found in James Hilton's more well-known novels, like Goodbye, Mr. Chips, and Lost Horizon (published in 1933 and 1934, respectively). The London-Manchester train struck a wagon that had strayed onto the main line from a siding on that chilly November morning, which was dazzling with sunshine and covered the fields in a light dusting of snow. The engine and the first two coaches derailed; cinders that were thrown from the debris started a fire that killed 14 people in the first coach. Sadly, some were not immediately slain. It was odd that there were still two burned bodies of women, both utterly unaccounted for, even after all the identities of those who might have been on that specific train on that particular morning had been gathered and scrutinized. But the book's mournful beauty is more about the atmosphere than what actually occurs. It is, unfortunately, what does not occur. As with Howat's intimidating sister-in-law, who has "a threatening optimism that was not quite matched by a sense of humor," he expertly evokes his minor characters in one or two telling existences.