At first glance Harold Fry is a sad, lonely English milquetoast, the
human equivalent of a potted geranium. “The Unlikely Pilgrimage of
Harold Fry,” Rachel Joyce’s first novel, contrives a way to shake him
out of his monotonous life and send him on a voyage of self-discovery.
Harold will learn that there is more to life than mowing one’s lawn.
Readers will learn that one man’s quiet timidity should not be taken at
face value. Potted geraniums have feelings too.
Ms. Joyce’s novel, a sentimental nominee for this year’s Man Booker
Prize, has a premise that is simple and twee. One day Harold receives a
letter from an old acquaintance, Queenie Hennessy. Queenie is dying at a
hospice that is 627 miles north of Harold’s home near the English
Channel. When Harold reads the letter, he responds with a tearful “I um.
Gosh.” Then he writes her a postcard and walks down his road to mail
it. Then he keeps on going.