The only thing wrong with The Port is the lack (at present) of a dozen sequels to it, all with many of the same characters....

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THE PORT

The only thing wrong with The Port is the lack (at present) of a dozen sequels to it, all with many of the same characters. Mr. Hough's story might, years ago, have been named Whit Fifield's Freedom (or, How I Escaped from Civilization's Manacles). Well, Whit, 35, lives year around on Baddow Port, a kind of two centuries old ghost village of ten creaky summerhouses somewhere below Cape Cod. He's a former ad man (but this is NOT a Madison Avenue novel). His middle-aged neighbor, Solon, is dickering with a city slicker named Pickering over the sale of some beach- front property. The slicker wants to build a yacht basin and a big development. Naturally this would kill everything that makes The Port such an enviable haven from the mayhem of Social Culture. Will Solon sell? A couple of city ladies wiggle through the plot, too, occasionally reclining, but the atmosphere remains wonderfully Way Down East and blueberry-pudding-Yankee. No tintypes, the characters have tang and shrewdness, they live and grow, and the dialogue and descriptions show care. Recommended with love for all those who share that feeling for New England.

Pub Date: June 14, 1963

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: Atheneum

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 1, 1963

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