[Penelope Fitzgerald] writes fluent poetic prose; yet [Offshore] leaves an impression of sharpness and shortness. Only in writing about the river does she let the words flow. The compression of her characterization is extraordinary; she can sum people up in a single sentence that begs as many questions as it answers but is worth pages of analysis. Of Nenna's twelve-year-old daughter: "The crucial moment when children realise that their parents are younger than they are had long ago been passed by Martha." Of Maurice the prostitute, who has an unsavoury friend hoarding stolen goods in his barge: "The dangerous and ridiculous were necessary to his life, otherwise tenderness would overwhelm him."

The dialogue is equally spare; no one says more than a few terse words at a time. And Mrs Fitzgerald has a technique of incorporating speech and thought into description that makes phrases such as "she said...