The title is a slight misnomer. Her house is not the easternmost in England: that honour belongs to one in Lowestoft, where adequate sea defences protect the town. Easton Bavents has no such luxury, and parts of the cliff keep dropping away; so we should allow the author her artistic licence, because she and her house are certainly out on the proverbial limb. It might take only one violent storm to force the evacuation of her house and leave it, as so much of this coast has been left, to the elements...For the moment, however, she continues to fight for this rural existence, and for the local wildlife that she so charmingly describes. As recompense, she lives in a landscape that has inspired not just writers, but a whole school of painting and, perhaps most famous of all, Benjamin Britten. Even when it has all been swallowed by the sea, the art it helped create will survive – and Blaxland’s book deserves a distinguished place in that company.