The sort of book about which you can legitimately go ""quietly mad"" and on your enthusiasm sell many copies. Mrs. Miniver's acute perception, her amusing examination of external things, her happy pursuit of a stray thought, her unexpected turn of phrase, make this a subtler joy than With Malice Toward Some. This is the rapier thrust rather than the bludgeon, the lifted eyebrow rather than the mugging, the quiet friendliness rather than the over-hearty slap on the back. Not fiction in the literal sense, for there's no plot, merely a chronological succession of sketches during two years of her life. There are interludes such as the return to London after the holidays, the new car, Christmas, the countryside, Scotland, gas masks, at the dentist's, a trip abroad, -- each one effortless, appealing, and delightful for the personal note in the mental ramblings. One enjoys the quality, the characters, the observant freshness brought to bear on trivia. No need to introduce Mrs. Miniver as another Provincial Lady. She'll soon stand on her own right, as a genial, keen Englishwoman, and will make her own staunch friends. You may gather that we liked it!