When Himanjali first came up with the timetelling dog, it was clear that it was a winner of an idea. When the book was completed, we were bowled over by its charm and its humour. The book is full of people (and dog) whom we recognised, but it also effortlessly crossed over into wacky fantasy. Take, for instance, the oddly named Orange Marmaladies. What orange marmalade has to do with time or the telling of it is a question we never felt the need to ask, because Himanjali’s story leaps from madness to madness with an insouciant joy.
I have known Himanjali for about thirty-five years, which is a long time to wait for a book. But the book seemed completely worth the wait.
The delightful daffiness which defines Himanjali permeates this book, and I have been giggling my way through, most recently with my six-year-old son.
Himanjali takes an utterly implausible situation, and delineates with her brand of quixotic but irrefutable logic. The power of the details is such that one lapses into a state of willing (but giggling) suspension of disbelief.
Every dog lover, child, parent, time fetishist, scientist and jam eater will love this book is my confident prediction. And a few others as well. And I hope I do not have to wait another thirty-five years for the next one.