A review by ruthiella
The Slaves of Solitude by Patrick Hamilton

3.0

Have you ever been cornered at an office party by an obnoxious co-worker or at a wedding by a dull guest from whom you were desperate to escape? I have, and usually such experiences remind me of the quote “Hell is other people”. Well, if you know what I am talking about, you will have a deja vu experience when reading The Slaves of Solitude. Which makes it sound like a horrible book and it isn’t. It is actually quite good. Let me try again. Slaves of Solitude is about a lonely, mild, middle age spinster, Enid Roach, who is living in a shabby boarding house in a village outside of London having been bombed out of her London flat. Miss Roach is verbally tormented daily by one of her fellow lodgers, Mr. Thwaits, who gets a sadistic pleasure out her discomfort. Her only escape is her weekday commute to her job in London and her dubious relationship with a drunken American lieutenant quartered in the village. None of the characters display any of the grim stoicism or gung-ho heroics in facing hardship which often typify WWII novels. In fact, if it weren’t for the rationing and the blackout, one could almost forget there was a war going on at all; the only battleground is the boarding house, meek Miss Roach vs. the overbearing Mr. Thwaits. Who will triumph? Hamilton balances the tension and tedium with ironic humor.