I don’t know what people’s problems are with this book. I’ve looked at some of the reviews here, and feel as though others must have read an entirely different book from the one I did. It was great. Really, really great and warm and loving. Yes, it was in the tradition of all those tales wherein a group of people are thrown together, detest each other and then grow to be each others biggest fans after a remarkably fortuitous shift in the social circle, but who cares? Julia London did it well, with almost cinematic descriptions, or at least highly visual ones that I could see a director thanking her for if a movie were ever made. There’s enough in life to moan about. Why moan about a genuinely good book? Sorry. I have no patience for silly criticisms.