The Quiet Brilliance of Cathy Rentzenbrink: On Ordinary Time and The Last Act of Love
Some books arrive in your life quietly—no hype, no drama, no urgency. You pick them up almost absentmindedly, maybe on a recommendation or a whim. And then they stay. They slip under your skin in a way you didn’t see coming.
That was my experience with Ordinary Time by Cathy Rentzenbrink.
I don’t even know how to convince you to read this book, which is strange, because I adored it. It’s one of those novels where almost nothing “happens,” and yet you can’t put it down. The writing is simple—pared back, unfussy—but it glows. It holds you. It says things you didn’t realise you needed said.
And now, just a few months into 2025, I already know: this will be one of my top reads of the year.
Ordinary Time: A Novel That Feels Like Being Seen
Ann is a vicar’s wife. She didn’t exactly choose the role—at least not in a hearts-on-fire kind of way—but here she is. Her husband is more emotionally available to the parish than to her. Her son is asking questions she can’t answer. She’s quietly drifting.
When her brother calls for help, she leaves her Cornish village for London. And there, she meets Jamie. There’s a spark. A possibility. Something new. And suddenly, Ann is asking all the questions she’s spent years pushing down.
Should she stay in the life she’s built? Or is there space for something else—something more?
Not Much Happens—and That’s the Magic
This is one of those books that’s hard to describe. Not because it’s complicated, but because the power is in the small moments. The writing is so deceptively simple, but I found it completely unputdownable. You’re not racing toward a big climax—you’re soaking in the nuance of a woman’s inner life, her disappointments, her needs, her quiet revelations.
It's like sitting with someone who finally lets the truth tumble out. And as a reader, you just want to sit still and listen.
From Temptation to Transformation
There’s so much restraint in how Rentzenbrink handles Ann’s connection with Jamie. It’s not a steamy affair novel. It’s a novel about temptation, yes—but also loneliness, duty, selfhood, and how easily women can disappear inside lives built for other people.
What I loved most is that nothing here is black and white. This isn’t about good or bad choices—it’s about real choices. Hard ones. It asks: Can you change your life? Is staying the same more noble, or just easier? Is love enough if it’s only ever one-sided?
Falling Down the Cathy Rentzenbrink Rabbit Hole
As soon as I finished Ordinary Time, I knew I needed more. I went straight to The Last Act of Love, her memoir—and wow. If Ordinary Time was a whisper, this one was a roar.
The Last Act of Love is the story of Cathy’s brother, who was left in a permanent vegetative state after an accident, and the years her family spent in limbo before ultimately deciding to let him go. It is a harrowing read. But it’s also incredibly beautiful. Written with compassion, clarity, and a total refusal to look away.
There’s something about Rentzenbrink’s voice that makes even the darkest moments bearable. She never sensationalises. She never pities. She simply writes the truth, and somehow that truth becomes a comfort.
It’s the kind of memoir that you won’t forget—not just because of the tragedy at its centre, but because of the humanity threaded through every line.
How Do You Describe a Book Like This?
I still don’t have the right words for Ordinary Time. I just know it made me feel held. Like someone understood the messiness of life and didn’t try to fix it, just sat beside it for a while. And sometimes, that’s exactly what a book needs to do.
If you’re in the mood for something quiet but profound—something that feels like a deep breath—start here. Just don’t be surprised if, like me, you find yourself reaching for everything else she’s ever written.
Because sometimes, the books that seem like they’re about “nothing” end up meaning everything, because life is too short to read bad books.