Late bloomers and buttocks

There’s no better book than Barbara Anderson’s GIRLS HIGH (1990) to launch a column inspired by the belief that at some point, before you’re too decrepit or too dead, you need to get around to a few of the older books you’re at risk of missing out on because you’re so busy chasing the latest thing.

New Zealand fiction writer Anderson’s first novel fits the bill for two reasons. First, because it’s so damned good, about which more in a moment. But second because Anderson was in her sixties when it was published, with her debut book, a short-story collection, released only the year before. Anderson went on to publish another 10 books, including her Collected Stories and an autobiography, before she died in 2013. If she could start writing so late in life, the rest of us, including those of a similar age, can at least start reading what she wrote, along with other backlist treasure out there.