Falling Behind

It's my goal to read two books per month this year. I am now officially behind because it is mid-September and I've only read 14. By this time, I should have finished 17. Three behind. This is the fault of Alan Hollinghurst, who wrote The Stranger's Child, a novel I picked up in Heathrow Airport back in June. I finally ended my struggle with it yesterday.

The review excerpts on the inside cover promised "richly textured prose", "imaginative flair and depth", "highly entertaining", "intricate, witty, playful", "magnificent coherence" and "a masterpiece". The notes on the back of the cover said it was "powerful, absorbing and richly comic...a masterly exploration of English culture, taste and attitudes over a century of change". I should have been able to breeze through something like that, even if it was 564 pages.

I won't argue with "richly textured prose" or "imaginative flair and depth", although "flair" probably isn't the word I'd choose. But I can assure you that it was NOT highly entertaining. It was intricate to the point of being confusing. I clearly missed the "witty and playful" bits. (It's possible I was fighting sleep.) And clearly, if it took me two months to finish it, it wasn't particularly absorbing.

I thought I had a pretty good handle on English humor. But since I missed the witty, playful and richly comic, perhaps I do not.

It was hard work, but I'm glad I'm done. Now to move on to some really good books so I can catch up!