"
Man at the Helm is a winner- a brilliant find....It is full, free, outlandish. And I can't remember a book that made me laugh more. [Stibbe] doesn't take anything seriously. Or rather, she does, and yet her eye and ear for the absurd never desert her- they are part of who she is."--
The Guardian"Some of the most perceptive writing I've read about relationships in a while....this book is very, very funny. Stibbe has a fine eye for absurdity, and her writing has an unforced charm."--
The Independent"[A] joyous read, full of wit and charm . . . I am already longing for Nina Stibbe's next book."--
The ObserverPRAISE FOR
LOVE, NINA "I adored this book, and I could quote from it forever. It's real, odd, life-affirming, sharp, loving...and I can't remember the last time I laughed out loud so frequently while reading."--
Nick Hornby, The Believer"Breezy, sophisticated, hilarious, rude, and aching with sweetness:
Love, Nina might be the most charming book I've ever read."--
Maria Semple, author of Where'd You Go, Bernadette"These letters are winning from the start...we simply like being in Ms. Stibbe's company."--
Dwight Garner, The New York Times"You'll find yourself laughing out loud but also touched by the book's depiction of family as it should be: people bound not just by blood but by shared affinities, humor and unfailing interest in hearing the answer to the question, 'How was your day?'"--
Kim Hubbard, People"I must MOST EARNESTLY recommend
Love, Nina by Nina Stibbe. It's the most piss-funny thing I've read all year. I can't remember a book since Adrian Mole that so brilliantly, drily nailed day-to-day life in BRILLIANT, faux-naive prose."--
Caitlin Moran, author of How to Build a Girl"I have never laughed so hard reading a book. Nina Stibbe's recollections of life as a London nanny are both hilarious and heartwarming."--
J. Courtney Sullivan, author of Maine and The Engagementsenchanting. It's one of the funniest¿and oddest¿books I've read in a long time.... [Stibbe's letters] are perceptive and droll, and provide a glimpse into the domestic life of a fascinating literary family."--
Moira Hodgson, The Wall Street Journal
There was Mrs Lunt, who, whatever our mother called her, was always helpfully around and though definitely not in the nanny role (for she hated children and said they gave her the horrors) was a comforting presence and made wonderful little jam tarts, with different-coloured jams, which we called pot-dots. 'There's nothing quite like a jam tart to cheer a person,' she used to say, and although that was the only nice thing she ever said, it was nice and she said it often.