It took me three times longer than normal to read this 300-page book. Why?
1. I could not bear to let go of it. Not the story and not the people.
2. I found myself consistently re-reading passages in the same way you would say, "I must have another cup of that tea because it is absolutely perfect." Here's what I mean:
But we are never old to ourselves. That is because at close of the day the ship we sail in is in the soul, not the body.
Or...
Memory, I must suppose, if it is neglected becomes like a box room, or a lumber room in an old house, the contents jumbled about, maybe not only from neglect but also from too much haphazard search in them, and things to boot thrown in that don't belong there.
Or....
I am trying to be faithful to what is in my head. I hope it is trying also to be as faithful to me.
It has all the things you want in a novel--complex characters, interesting (but not predictable) plot, awesome setting (Ireland!)--but beyond that it is possibly the most beautifully written novel I have ever read. It isn't flowery or over-the-top descriptive or gushy. The language is completely fresh. It is perfect.
Two voices tell the story (another big plus in my book): a 100-year old woman confined to a mental institution and her psychiatrist. No one remembers why she was "committed," and she's not talking about it.
Do yourself a favor. Read this book.
Can't wait to read this! Since you already made my buy it, it shouldn't be too long. ;)
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