It’s Not All Mary Poppins

An Orgy of Literary Dimensions

In the past week, I’ve wallowed shamelessly in an unrestrained self-indulgence of reading. Since July 28 I’ve read:

Amsterdam, by Ian McEwan
Mrs. Craddock, Somerset Maugham
the five people you meet in heaven, Mitch Albom
The Mice Will Play, Edward O. Phillips
The Reader, Bernard Schlink
Family Matters, Rohinton Mistry
The Red Tent, Anita Diamant

I’m about to tackle Muhammad, by Karen Armstrong, which I’ve been told is much more accessible than the last book of hers I tried (A Brief History of God). Never did finish that one, though the first few chapters were very interesting. After that it just became far too dense.

My opinions on all these?

In the Lots of Fun, or Really Interesting category fall:
The Mice Will Play and The Red Tent.

In A Good Read, even though I found the epilogue unnecessary, far too long, and a detraction:
Family Matters

Nice: mildly thought-provoking, not very deep really, but nice:
the five people you meet in heaven

Disturbing:
The Reader. Why, oh why didn’t he TELL the judge what he knew? I just don’t get it. And without that, what’s the point of the story?

Much ado about nothing:
Mrs. Craddock. This was a short story, stretched out to an entire novel. A waste of 10,000 extra words.

Completely inexplicable and far-fetched/unlikely:
Amsterdam. (It won the Booker prize, too. So is the problem me or the book?)

All that and finished a table, too! What a woman.

August 6, 2005 Posted by | books | 9 Comments