Thursday, September 02, 2010

Well, Really?

I am 13 pages into Hitch-22 and find myself cringing at this steward of discourse making his own allusions to a Madeleine. Such is awkward, given my affection for his peer group. Memoirs are a tricky terrain, no doubt. It is just this incessant grapple, this wrestling to say, enough, damnit, you DO know better Christopher. Somehow I have never had this issue with Julian Barnes and his Nothing To Be Afraid Of.

I a 250 pages across Little Stranger and my verdict is sweeping towards a middlebrow assessment. That said, I am making my list for the trip to Serbia.


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