Warming My Hands and Telling Lies
Dinah Birch, 3 August 1995
“... again, then. Here we go. The severe outlines of Kennedy’s writing, together with its relentless self-concern, hardly seem calculated to make an immediate appeal. She does not offer the pleasures or complexities of lyrical language, and her sharp, spare sentences can suggest an alienating aggression towards both characters and readers. What might be still ... ”