cbfredriks's review against another edition
emotional
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
4.0
minniepauline's review against another edition
5.0
I've heard it said that poetry is emotion written down. If so, then this book is a prose poem. But closer, even, would be to describe it as music, maybe, which is perhaps more purely emotion.
It's a love story. It's a tragedy. It might even be called a mystery. Mysterious, anyway.
It is beautiful and it should be read. That's really all I want to say.
It's a love story. It's a tragedy. It might even be called a mystery. Mysterious, anyway.
It is beautiful and it should be read. That's really all I want to say.
lola425's review against another edition
4.0
I was hypnotized by this book. At first, I thought it was slow, but the stream of consciousness, the interior monologues, the "your book" conceit, all of it conspired to enthrall me. Beth and Arthur's story could really be told in no other way, but by slow, ambiguous unveiling, they same way they operate, the same way their love unfolds in them. Key to enjoying this book is to let it unfold, don't try so hard to "understand"; approach it as a believer, not a skeptic.
Haven't really thought it through, but the page numbers at the top of the page (presumably the "blue book" page numbers) start to appear out of sequence and randomly. It distracted me, but only for a moment.
Haven't really thought it through, but the page numbers at the top of the page (presumably the "blue book" page numbers) start to appear out of sequence and randomly. It distracted me, but only for a moment.
lola425's review
4.0
I was hypnotized by this book. At first, I thought it was slow, but the stream of consciousness, the interior monologues, the "your book" conceit, all of it conspired to enthrall me. Beth and Arthur's story could really be told in no other way, but by slow, ambiguous unveiling, they same way they operate, the same way their love unfolds in them. Key to enjoying this book is to let it unfold, don't try so hard to "understand"; approach it as a believer, not a skeptic.
Haven't really thought it through, but the page numbers at the top of the page (presumably the "blue book" page numbers) start to appear out of sequence and randomly. It distracted me, but only for a moment.
Haven't really thought it through, but the page numbers at the top of the page (presumably the "blue book" page numbers) start to appear out of sequence and randomly. It distracted me, but only for a moment.
ejamie77's review against another edition
2.0
Overall this book did not work for me. Characters were so distant, plot so convoluted, so much missing. But there were some aspects of the writing that I could appreciate, and parts that I expect will stay with me a while; hence the second star. Overall I'm not sorry I read it, but I'm glad to be done!
greeniezona's review against another edition
4.0
At the library with my kids, I saw this on the New Fiction shelves and had to have it, as I have a very high opinion of Kennedy. And this book won me over with its very first page -- an intimate address to the reader from the book itself (an address that is achingly beautiful when read again after reading the book through to the end.)
It is hard to write much about this book without spoiling anything. Untangling the relationships between and identifying the characters within is sometimes frustrating, but necessary, I believe. Because at least one of the characters is a sometimes con artist. Another is a child of a magician, which is a sort of con as well, isn't it? This book is about magic, real magic and cheap magic, the difference between conning and helping, between intimacy and deduction, guilt and self-flagellation.
It's A.L. Kennedy, so you know there will be darkness, loss, and alienation. This fore-knowledge will not prevent the pain from being staggering when it hits.
Ultimately, it is about our need to lay ourselves bare, for the worst of our shortcomings to be known, so that we can be forgiven.
So that we can be loved.
It is hard to write much about this book without spoiling anything. Untangling the relationships between and identifying the characters within is sometimes frustrating, but necessary, I believe. Because at least one of the characters is a sometimes con artist. Another is a child of a magician, which is a sort of con as well, isn't it? This book is about magic, real magic and cheap magic, the difference between conning and helping, between intimacy and deduction, guilt and self-flagellation.
It's A.L. Kennedy, so you know there will be darkness, loss, and alienation. This fore-knowledge will not prevent the pain from being staggering when it hits.
Ultimately, it is about our need to lay ourselves bare, for the worst of our shortcomings to be known, so that we can be forgiven.
So that we can be loved.
giantarms's review against another edition
1.0
The covers are blue. The endpapers are blue. The edges of the pages are dyed blue. There is an attractive palmistry diagram picked out in gold on the cover. Thankfully, the text is black on a standard white background. You begin to read and are surprised to find the book talking to you in the second person. You are annoyed that the book would presume to know your emotions and to pass judgment on the quality of your character. Still, there's a bit about rocks you quite like, so you press on.
Soon, you meet an English woman on a boat who refuses to admit to herself that her boyfriend is also English and so she talks to herself in italics for what seems like fifty pages. She meets a skeevy man on the boat who is skeevy in an unapologetic English way, but she cannot get away from him without the assistance of vomit. Then, the scene shifts to a spiritualist whom you nearly forgot about and the sequins are a welcome change.
But then it is time to go your husband's mother's house for his birthday. You bring the chocolate cake you made to his bizarre specifications. Your mother-in-law is a more avid and a wider reader than you. Her leisure time does not, generally, involve the changing of diapers, and so the overflowing bookcases in her house are not a pretense to intellectualism, but an invitation to conversation.
Her chili is delicious and your cake is well received. While the men struggle with the metal puzzles your husband got as gifts, you announce that you are suffering the Reader's Dilemma. Your mother-in-law looks at you quizzically.
"I'm reading this book I'm not enjoying, but I kind of want to know where it goes," you say, and she explodes with sympathy having faced the same problem many times before. She wants to know what your book is about.
"I don't know. I think it's one of those things where two characters run around and their stories are supposed to intertwine eventually." That's all you can remember of the blurb that sold you on the book and so you splutter to describe what you've read so far. Everyone in the room makes a face. You have convinced them of the frustrating nature of the book.
But you are still taken with the design of the book as an object. You describe it in glowing terms and your mother-in-law is excited until you get to the part about the palmistry diagram. She makes a "pft" sound and turns away from you. She is a humanist, a rationalist, a scientist. Later you will remember a story about a neighbor's dead dog that she told over dinner to illustrate her impatience with the improbable. In connecting these events, you will feel the thrill of snapping a puzzle piece into place.
But for now, you divvy up the cake and take your babies home where they will laugh and cry and fall over many times before you can get them to bed. You sit in the dark and in a moment of peace, you remember all the other books calling to you from your own, more modest shelves. The covers are plain black or utilitarian library bindings, but you can feel desire for them boiling in your chest. You make a plan about what to do with the book.
As you rise to take a shower you think these words. You stumble over the puzzle piece metaphor because you think it's cliche, but you let it stand. When you reach for your towel you realize you don't have an ending. Frankly, the whole endeavor strikes you as a bit too clever for it's own good. You decide to think of something in the morning, but you have no intention of doing so.
Soon, you meet an English woman on a boat who refuses to admit to herself that her boyfriend is also English and so she talks to herself in italics for what seems like fifty pages. She meets a skeevy man on the boat who is skeevy in an unapologetic English way, but she cannot get away from him without the assistance of vomit. Then, the scene shifts to a spiritualist whom you nearly forgot about and the sequins are a welcome change.
But then it is time to go your husband's mother's house for his birthday. You bring the chocolate cake you made to his bizarre specifications. Your mother-in-law is a more avid and a wider reader than you. Her leisure time does not, generally, involve the changing of diapers, and so the overflowing bookcases in her house are not a pretense to intellectualism, but an invitation to conversation.
Her chili is delicious and your cake is well received. While the men struggle with the metal puzzles your husband got as gifts, you announce that you are suffering the Reader's Dilemma. Your mother-in-law looks at you quizzically.
"I'm reading this book I'm not enjoying, but I kind of want to know where it goes," you say, and she explodes with sympathy having faced the same problem many times before. She wants to know what your book is about.
"I don't know. I think it's one of those things where two characters run around and their stories are supposed to intertwine eventually." That's all you can remember of the blurb that sold you on the book and so you splutter to describe what you've read so far. Everyone in the room makes a face. You have convinced them of the frustrating nature of the book.
But you are still taken with the design of the book as an object. You describe it in glowing terms and your mother-in-law is excited until you get to the part about the palmistry diagram. She makes a "pft" sound and turns away from you. She is a humanist, a rationalist, a scientist. Later you will remember a story about a neighbor's dead dog that she told over dinner to illustrate her impatience with the improbable. In connecting these events, you will feel the thrill of snapping a puzzle piece into place.
But for now, you divvy up the cake and take your babies home where they will laugh and cry and fall over many times before you can get them to bed. You sit in the dark and in a moment of peace, you remember all the other books calling to you from your own, more modest shelves. The covers are plain black or utilitarian library bindings, but you can feel desire for them boiling in your chest. You make a plan about what to do with the book.
As you rise to take a shower you think these words. You stumble over the puzzle piece metaphor because you think it's cliche, but you let it stand. When you reach for your towel you realize you don't have an ending. Frankly, the whole endeavor strikes you as a bit too clever for it's own good. You decide to think of something in the morning, but you have no intention of doing so.
beansbooks912's review against another edition
2.0
I really didn't like this. It was very slow-moving and I had a hard time liking any of the characters. It took forever I read simply because my I interest just wasn't there.
jessferg's review against another edition
1.0
I can't even muster the respect needed to write a review. This book sucks. You'll get better insight, and less neurosis, from reality tv. And better writing from any fan fiction site - with more cohesiveness and continuity. Stay away from this one, folks.
sophronisba's review against another edition
4.0
Confusing, sometimes baffling, and requires close attention -- if your mind wanders you will be lost. But it's very well-written, and the window into Elizabeth's mind can be very affecting. And the story it tells is a good one once you piece it together (although I have misgivings about the final twist).