Two years ago Janet Frame brought out the first volume, To the Is-Land, of her projected three-volume autobiography: that installment concluded with her departure from home for university and city life; the second one, An Angel at My Table, ends with her departure from New Zealand for England and continental life, thus chronicling almost fifteen years of social, psychological, and literary struggle in which she was judged schizophrenic (and almost lobotomized), was adjudged winner of a small literary prize, and was adjudicated worthy of government support as a promising writer. Though she takes pains to deny her mental abnormality, she also takes pains to stress her insecurity at placing coins in a telephone, picking up a college newspaper, and submitting contributions to a university periodical.

As in the first volume, Frame dwells on odd behavior (keeping sanitary napkins with soiled clothes and chocolate wrappers in a chest of drawers), admits her general naïveté (of lesbianism, masturbation, homosexuality, and European literature), and details her disregard of personal cleanliness (clothing, rotting teeth, menstruation). Her eight years in a mental institution are, unfortunately, not well documented or discussed; an equal period as a waitress and housemaid is somewhat overtreated. Though The Lagoon and Other Stories is alluded to frequently, there is no account of its contents, genesis, themes, and reception; on the other hand, some of Frame's early poems, which she advises us "are best not remembered," are, oddly, reprinted before she tells us that they were destroyed. Together with these rather pedestrian matters and repetitious accounting of train trips throughout New Zealand, there are several—again, unhappily, not satisfactorily recounted—vignettes of writers she met and who encouraged her: Frank Sargeson is the principal mentor, and he is the "angel" whose early support clearly was crucial; but Greville Texidor, Charles Brasch, and Allen Curnow pass as mere phantoms about whom we would like to learn more.

Unfortunately, the book has a different typeface and trim size than its predecessor. Thus far, the autobiography has been poorly edited; though printed in the United States, British spelling is used.