My copy of A Touch of Joshua came from the bookseller with a short biography inserted in 1960 for reviewers. So I know that Cecilia Bartholomew (1907-1992) was born in Canada, moved to California as a child, and established permanent residence in the state after World War II. She published the first of her more than three dozen short stories in 1945 and the first of her four novels in 1958.
A Touch of Joshua by Cecilia Bartholomew. Doubleday (1960), 354 pp.
Insatiably angry and aggrieved Drama professor Joshua Newton is late for dinner at his imperious mother’s house in the Berkeley hills. Driving with him are wife Cynthia and teenage son John. As he enters a large traffic circle, he sideswipes a station wagon driven by Marianne Marsh, the unmarried acting coach at a local girls’ school. She’s dropping off some students before returning home with boarder Darrel Gellickson. Joshua’s car veers away from hers and slams into the vehicle of Francis Caffrey, a night watchman caught up in investment schemes. The collision sends Joshua and his family into a concrete lane divider. He breaks both legs; his wife’s injuries are more serious. On his way to the hospital he declares that he had the right of way and that Marianne is responsible for the accident.
Rather than focusing on culpability, the story instead explores the lives of the novel’s major characters in the aftermath of the accident. Joshua, laid up at home, tries to find a way to prove he wasn’t to blame. He increasingly sees himself on a quest for justice. As he expects, his mother mixes short-term support with disapproval of his entire life. His only ally appears to be Francis, who is on a muddled mission of his own. Meanwhile, the two teenagers face personal issues. John, insecure and unable to get the attention of his father, turns to Darrel for sympathy. She is then forced to confront questions of sex and attachment. Finally, Marianne, cheerfully oblivious to Joshua’s anger, tries to recruit him in her effort to unite on- and off-campus theater groups. The author adds descriptions of minor characters and of Berkeley in general. In the end she’s created a portrait of everyday life - convincing, sympathetic but not entirely hopeful.