I’ve been setting myself a pretty high bar when it comes to reviewing books for this site. Quite possibly this has something to do with my occupation. (You think?) However, all that it seems to have really accomplished is slowing me down so that I don’t have enough time to devote to a single entry that takes some crafting. Ergo, I have this giant pile of books next to my desk that sits unreviewed day after day until I practically remember only whether I liked them or not, and very little of the particular reasons why. So, I’m hereby giving myself permission to make briefer entries on these, at the very least until I’m once more caught up.
Author: A.S. Byatt
One of my sisters got this for me for Christmas in 2003. I finally read it this summer. It’s about two literary scholars who are devoted to separate writers and through their research find a connection, both in history, and between themselves. I enjoyed it very much. The prose was simply exquisite. And it really isn’t that hard to sell me on Victorian literature as a reader. That said, I have to admit that I liked the historical tale much better than the contemporary one and found myself a bit distanced from the present-day characters. The historical poets seem much more vital and their story more insistent. But, this didn’t win the Booker Prize for nothing — it’s very readable. And I would recommend it.