...
Show More
Oh, this was dreadful.
To be fair, and I'll say this up front: I am NOT the right reader for this book. I shouldn't have been allowed within a ten mile radius of it, let alone read it. This was a function of being invited to a book club at my place of work, and my very first time as a participant in an in-person reading group.
I know this book is widely beloved and is an international best seller. That's a fact.
What's also a fact, is that it's ridiculously melodramatic, unbelievable, and sickly-sentimental. I can't stand the way it's written. I'll stop talking for a minute, and let the writing say it all:
"Childhood devotions make unfaithful and fickle lovers."
"Undressing a woman for the first time is like peeling a hot sweet potato on a winter's night."
"That woman is a volcano on the point of eruption with a libido of igneous magma with a heart of an angel."
"He was both funereal and incandescent."
"The servant glided away at the slightest order from the master with the efficiency and submissiveness of a body of well-trained insects."
In addition to many other quotable quotes such as the above, there's a scene in which a father and son bring a beggar into their home and the two of them bathe and towel him off. For what possible reason? Can't the beggar, an adult male, bathe himself? It takes two adult men to clean him?
And: one of the (unidimensional) female characters "insists" on describing her own eyes as "emerald and sapphire", NOT light blue. Who does this? Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't emerald and sapphire two totally different colours?
I couldn't bear all the backstory, the endless backstory. The stilted dialogue. The ending, in which the mystery is solved by the convenient discovery of a letter which answers each and every question you could possibly have, if, by the end of the 500+ pages, you still cared.
I'm sorry! What a crank I am! What a snob! Not book club material, as it turns out. And now if you'll excuse me, I'll do you all a favour and return to my solitary literary pursuits.
To be fair, and I'll say this up front: I am NOT the right reader for this book. I shouldn't have been allowed within a ten mile radius of it, let alone read it. This was a function of being invited to a book club at my place of work, and my very first time as a participant in an in-person reading group.
I know this book is widely beloved and is an international best seller. That's a fact.
What's also a fact, is that it's ridiculously melodramatic, unbelievable, and sickly-sentimental. I can't stand the way it's written. I'll stop talking for a minute, and let the writing say it all:
"Childhood devotions make unfaithful and fickle lovers."
"Undressing a woman for the first time is like peeling a hot sweet potato on a winter's night."
"That woman is a volcano on the point of eruption with a libido of igneous magma with a heart of an angel."
"He was both funereal and incandescent."
"The servant glided away at the slightest order from the master with the efficiency and submissiveness of a body of well-trained insects."
In addition to many other quotable quotes such as the above, there's a scene in which a father and son bring a beggar into their home and the two of them bathe and towel him off. For what possible reason? Can't the beggar, an adult male, bathe himself? It takes two adult men to clean him?
And: one of the (unidimensional) female characters "insists" on describing her own eyes as "emerald and sapphire", NOT light blue. Who does this? Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't emerald and sapphire two totally different colours?
I couldn't bear all the backstory, the endless backstory. The stilted dialogue. The ending, in which the mystery is solved by the convenient discovery of a letter which answers each and every question you could possibly have, if, by the end of the 500+ pages, you still cared.
I'm sorry! What a crank I am! What a snob! Not book club material, as it turns out. And now if you'll excuse me, I'll do you all a favour and return to my solitary literary pursuits.