Garden Party & Other Stories: Popular Penguins
By (Author) Katherine Mansfield
Penguin Group (NZ)
Penguin Books (NZ)
30th August 2010
New Zealand
General
Fiction
Short stories
823.2
Paperback
160
Width 111mm, Height 179mm, Spine 10mm
98g
Innovative, startlingly perceptive and aglow with colour, these fifteen stories were written towards the end of Katherine Mansfield's tragically short life. Many are set in New Zealand, others in England and the French Riviera. All are revelations of the unspoken, half-understood emotions that make up everyday experience - from the vivid, impressionistic evocation of family life in 'At the Bay' to the poignant, haunting, miniature masterpiece 'The Garden Party'.
Katherine Mansfield was born in Wellington, New Zealand, in 1888 and died in Fontainebleau in 1923. She came to London for the latter part of her education, and could not settle down back in Wellington society; in 1908 she again left for Europe, never to return. Her first writing (apart from some early sketches) was published in The New Age, to which she became a regular contributor. Her first book, In a German Pension, was published in 1911. In 1912 she began to write for Rhythm, edited by John Middleton Murry, whom she eventually married. She was a conscious modernist, an experimenter in life and writing, and mixed with others of her kind, including D. H. Lawrence and Virginia Woolf. With Preludein 1916 she evolved her distinctive voice as a writer of short fiction. By 1917 she had contracted tuberculosis, and from that time led a wandering life in search of health. Her second book of stories, Bliss, was published in 1921, and her third, The Garden Party, appeared a year later. It was the last book to be published in her lifetime. After her death, two more collections of stories were published, also her Letters and later her Journal. Virginia Woolf wrote of Katherine Mansfield- 'She was for ever pursued by her dying, and had to press on through stages that should have taken years in ten minutes ... She had a quality I adored and needed; I think her sharpness and reality - her having knocked about with prostitutes and so on, whereas I had always been respectable - was the thing I wanted then. I dream of her often ...'