Latest Review of ‘Capriccio: A Novel’ I knew the story about Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath but to read about Assia, and get the rest of the story was quite amazing. You write so well. The characters come alive making the reader understand them and their motives. Throughout the book you maintain the tension making it a real page turner. […]
If Assia, named Esther in my novel. ‘Capriccio’, had lived to see this day, she would have reached the grand old age of ninety-three. Instead, in a moment of madness, she took her own life, and that of her daughter with Ted Hughes, at the age of forty-one. A double tragedy, undoubtedly caused by her stormy relationship with Hughes, and […]
This delightful review came all the way from Colorado, USA To summarise, I was totally hooked and could not put the book down. The story has multiple themes, as did the movie, “Parasite.” Where to start? One theme was, “Denial is not just a river in Egypt”. Another might be- “Be careful what you wish for, ” and “what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,” to name just a few. You certainly zeroed in on obsession and narcissism in your portrayal of the characters. What a tragic story! I certainly had sympathy for Esther (although I wanted to shake her into reality at every turn, her background help me understand her sensibilities) the same for Grace. Tony and Tanya were the innocent victims of the obsession, no doubt. Having no sympathy for Larry, what so ever, was probably due to knowing very little about his background before Esther. I guess that might reflect my “ME TOO” bias in today’s world. As I read I was curious as to what inspired your writing related to your own background, Dina. It is always assumed that writers write from what they know. Dave also read your novel. Well done expresses both of our sentiments. Sarah, March 2020. Quoted with permission 2. I’m humbled and delighted by this 5 star review on Goodreads in January 2020. So happy readers are still enjoying it. Dragonladymoi‘s review Jan 07, […]
www.goodreads.com/review/show/3130338430 I’m humbled and delighted by this review on Goodreads, over a year after publication of ‘Capriccio:A Novel’. So happy readers are still enjoying it.
Some reviews of my first edition of Capriccio: A Novel: eBook: Dina Davis: Amazon.com.au: Books — Read on www.amazon.com.au/Capriccio-Novel-Dina-Davis-ebook/dp/B07GGFXX9G/ref=sr_1_2_twi_kin_1
This is an abridged version of the article by Eilat Negev, which inspired me to write the story of Assia Gutmann Wevill as a work of fiction.
AUTHOR TALK: Dina Davis with Susannah Fullerton. Review by Susan Beinart On 3 February 2019, Waverley Library Theatrette resounded with the voices of Dina Davis in conversation with Susannah Fullerton, at the Sydney launch of Dina’s début work, Capriccio: A Novel. This novel was inspired by the lives of Assia Wevill, Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath. This roman à clef covers the love-triangle that played out between these three poets, highlighting, for the first time, Wevill’s role in this fascinating tale. Fullerton, well known at Library events for her deep knowledge of Jane Austen and other historical writers, asked Davis probing questions about Capriccio: A Novel. Davis answered Fullerton’s questions with passion and honesty. The conversation flowed and the audience was riveted. We learned much about Capriccio: A Novel, including that Davis wrote it with commitment, partly because she felt passionate about the single-mother plight of Wevill, who had, apart from a biography, thus far escaped literary interest. No longer. This fine novel will surely provoke more interest in Wevill, who is known as ‘Esther’ in the book. Names of all the protagonists were changed at the request of the Hughes Estate. PAGE 2 Adapted from Friends of the Waverley Library Newsletter, SPRING 2019
The following is an excerpt frm my short story which was a finalist in the 2018 NT Literary Awards: EDGE by Dina Davis Rubbing her hands together, desperate for warmth, the young mother dragged a blanket from the empty cot nearby, to drape over her shoulders. Her two children were still sleeping in this hour before dawn. It took a […]
I am excited to announce the forthcoming publication of my work of fiction, ‘Capriccio: a Novel’. To honour the occasion I will be seting up a new website where I will post background information on the real story behind the book. My brand new Website “CAPRICCIOTHE NOVEL” is coming soon! Here you can read articles and see photos of the real story behind “Capriccio: A Novel”, soon to be published by Cilento Press. I took the title of my novel from a series of poems by Ted Hughes, which were written about his relationship with Assia Gutmann Wevill. My book tells the story of their love affair, from the viewpoint of the woman who came between Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. Apart from one biography, ‘Lover of Unreason” by Eilat Negev and Yehuda Koren, Assia herself has been written out of history, or else maligned by the brief mentions she gets in many of the reference books about this famous love triangle. My novel aims to redress the balance, and to restore Assia to her proper place in literary history. WATCH THIS SPACE FOR COVER PHOTO, BLURB, AND MORE DETAILS COMNG SOON!
The following extract from my novel ‘Capriccio’ is a fictional recreation of the last day of Sylvia Plath’s life. In this version I haven’t named her, partly to comply with a request from the Hughes estate, and partly to see if it works. What do you think, Dear Readers? Does it work? The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag. – from ‘Edge’ by S.Plath EDGE Rubbing her hands together, desperate for warmth, the young mother dragged a blanket from the empty cot nearby, to drape over her shoulders. Her two children were still sleeping in this hour before dawn. It took a supreme effort of will to shuffle to the little table under the bedroom window that served as a desk. She opened her journal with stiff aching fingers, and reached for her fountain pen The water’s frozen in the pipes, and the blood’s frozen in my veins. My hands are stiff and blue with cold as I write this. It’s the worst winter London has known in over thirty years. Thirty years; my age last birthday and what have I to show for it? A failed marriage, a few poems, and a mediocre novel. At least I didn’t publish it under my own name. Mother would be mortified if she knew that monster was […]