So, the synopsis sounded amazing. A woman who kills her husband and takes on his identity in, what has to be, the most difficult secret to keep under wraps. Especially when “he” meets a woman and wants a child.
The problem is that this book doesn’t really refer to this past event at all. The writing style is, for me, rambling and incoherent and I as I read it my overwhelming feelings were of confusion and boredom.
It flits about without warning and switches direction/times so frequently that it lacks any kind of cohesion.
It is an amazing premise and you do get a strong sense of the unraveling of Abe, as the son “he” worked so hard to produce is a crushing disappointment to him.
As I said in the title, this is as close to literary marmite as it gets. I daresay that there are plenty who will enjoy the naval gazing, vague style but it just didn’t engage me one jot. It’s a short book (I wouldn’t have bothered wading through it otherwise) which just left me with the overriding feeling that a story with such promise had been lost in swamping pretentiousness.
The problem is that this book doesn’t really refer to this past event at all. The writing style is, for me, rambling and incoherent and I as I read it my overwhelming feelings were of confusion and boredom.
It flits about without warning and switches direction/times so frequently that it lacks any kind of cohesion.
It is an amazing premise and you do get a strong sense of the unraveling of Abe, as the son “he” worked so hard to produce is a crushing disappointment to him.
As I said in the title, this is as close to literary marmite as it gets. I daresay that there are plenty who will enjoy the naval gazing, vague style but it just didn’t engage me one jot. It’s a short book (I wouldn’t have bothered wading through it otherwise) which just left me with the overriding feeling that a story with such promise had been lost in swamping pretentiousness.