Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Sentimentalists by Johanna Skibsrud *DNF*

Oh brother. What I thought was lovely writing at the beginning quickly became tedious by page 30, somewhat discombobulating by page 50, and by the time I came to this paragraph on page 102 I knew I couldn't go on . . .

But, as I floated over Henry's old house, and did and did not listen to myself, it occurred to me that the reverse of the thing was also true. That instead of disappearing - or equally, as we disappeared - we also existed more heavily, in layers. And that by remaining, as in floodwater, always at the surface of everything, though our points of reference begin to slowly change, it is always so slight a transition, moment to moment, that it is almost imperceptible. 


There's a story in here somewhere but I'm just not getting it.


Beth said...

Gave this book to my son for Christmas – he loved it.
Suggested it for Book Club – no one liked it.

laughingwolf said...

absolutely detest pretenders, wannabes, and just plain me-too-ists! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

shame on the editors who 'pass' such drivel, and the 'publishers' who don't care enough!

Trish said...

I'm still scratching my head over this one.

Debbie Rodgers said...

I haven't read this but have several friends who have (the author is from a place not far from here). None of my friends gave this a glowing review. I'm becoming more & more convinced not to try it.