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A review by sharppointysticks
Skippy Dies by Paul Murray
5.0
First, I will NEVER be able to think of Robert Frost the same way again... Second, there is a whole lot of stuff going on in this book but some how it manages to all tie together and work. I bought it on a whim when it was on sale. Glad I did, it was really good.
This part hit just a little too close to home though..
"I can't do this anymore...
What?
I'm so sorry Howard says in a strangulated voice
A some pre-conscience level she must already know what's coming because she feels like she's been punched in the stomach, there's no air in her lungs, she does not seem able to breathe new air in. Not now she thinks, not now. But the next thing he is babbling to her about Robert Graves and Halloween, wild horses and global warming. A substitute geography teacher who drinks cosmopolitans. It descends on Haley in a rain and before she unpick the sense of it the blood has drained from her face, her fingers buzz with lightness, and a part of her is thinking of feminism. A part of her is thinking of all the women who fought for their rights and feeling ashamed for letting them down because as the story of his infidelity unspools, she feels only an agonizing crumbling, a horrible, literal disintegration, as if she is turned into slush and cascading all over the floor.
He tells her that he does know how he feels, he doesn't know what he wants, and all she wants is for mop her up and gather her together as she was. She wants to plead and beg and cry so he will unsay what he's just said, hold her in his arms, tell her that nothing has changed, that everything is all right.
But of course that is not what happens."
This part hit just a little too close to home though..
"I can't do this anymore...
What?
I'm so sorry Howard says in a strangulated voice
A some pre-conscience level she must already know what's coming because she feels like she's been punched in the stomach, there's no air in her lungs, she does not seem able to breathe new air in. Not now she thinks, not now. But the next thing he is babbling to her about Robert Graves and Halloween, wild horses and global warming. A substitute geography teacher who drinks cosmopolitans. It descends on Haley in a rain and before she unpick the sense of it the blood has drained from her face, her fingers buzz with lightness, and a part of her is thinking of feminism. A part of her is thinking of all the women who fought for their rights and feeling ashamed for letting them down because as the story of his infidelity unspools, she feels only an agonizing crumbling, a horrible, literal disintegration, as if she is turned into slush and cascading all over the floor.
He tells her that he does know how he feels, he doesn't know what he wants, and all she wants is for mop her up and gather her together as she was. She wants to plead and beg and cry so he will unsay what he's just said, hold her in his arms, tell her that nothing has changed, that everything is all right.
But of course that is not what happens."