Sometimes the most remarkable gifts of novel writing are so deftly hidden that it takes a surrender of expectations to be able to know what you hold in your hand….

[In "A Glass of Blessings," Barbara Pym] writes about a world of small things—not simple but small, not very important….

[The] mild excitement that comes with the romance and marriage of a colorless neighbor, the peccadillos of the gourmet cook at the vicarage, the occasional protest of the heart against the powerful blanc mange of respectability should add, in the ordinary way, to very slim fare. But don't be deceived.

Here is where this artful novelist instructs the reader in the ambiguities and subtleties of art. The layers of this world are onion-thin: she takes them apart gently, with no malice, not even a mild contempt. Some people live this way; she makes no judgment. But it...