Makes an artform of cliche. ( )

I wasn't sure what to make of this novel - the cover suggests some kind of hippy-chick lit, but the actual story is more 'Barbara Pym lite does the sixties', which is not a style I would consciously choose (I hate reading about the middle classes, with characters called Jocelyn and Leonora who pepper their dialogue with 'dreadfully's and 'dear boy's). I couldn't stand Sandy and Ray (which I think was the author's intention), the latter of which took up far too much space, and 'dear old' Iseult (what the hell kind of name is that?) got severely on my nerves. Koning writes the toffs well, but her idea of 'youth' (the goth band) and social climbing oiks (Ray) are cartoonish and unbelievable. I did like the supernatural subplot, which was unexpected and underused, but by that point, I realised what type of narrative I had unwittingly selected and was page-skimming to get shut of all the dear, dear chaps and chapesses. ( )