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The Not-So-Happy Island

First of all, Dawn Powell is my favorite American author. Upon discovering her at a used book store in West Seattle, I've been compelled to read almost all her novels, plays, diaries, and biography. So, this review is in the context of a report from a dedicated fan with the desire to pique the interest of the reader to go out and read her stuff.

That being said, The Happy Island is not my favorite of her novels, but I still
like it as one of her works. The view of Manhattan is a bit more bleak, the characters a bit less sympathetic than The Golden Spur and The Locusts Have No King, two masterpieces. But because it's her work, we are treated to a flawed but brilliant cast, a cinematic/pictoral talent that litters the landscape with
numerous vignettes rivalling the 20th century scene painters from John Sloan to Thomas Hart Benton; the description of a local Ohio train is a classic.

The storytelling/plotting is never arbitrary, never calls attention to itself,
and always in service to character development. The Happy Island looks at a nightclub singer, her 'crowd', an arrogant playright, and a popular society bandleader.

Read it, but read it after you're hooked on Powell's prose. Start with Angels on Toast, The Locusts Have No King or Dance Night.
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