![]() (One may simply attribute this to my own poor reading comprehension.) And unfortunately, the many heartfelt descriptions of the city of Detroit were mostly lost on me because I have never been there. For the most part, I loved his writing (Obviously, otherwise I would not have enjoyed the novel at all.) but there were several instances where I had some difficulty interpreting his metaphorical use of language, especially during descriptions, and found it necessary to look up a photo of what was being described. Jeffrey Eugenides's prose is also a bit too flowery for my usual taste. A couple of these moments were a bit jarring for me as a reader. There are several historical events interjected within the story, and the characters' involvement with them did not always feel natural or cohesive with the rest of the plot. The blending of the generational family saga and (fictional) memoir within one book reminds me somewhat of John Steinbeck's East of Eden, as does its similarly slow-paced and rambling style (which I love) however, there are just a few areas where the novel fell short for me. ![]() ![]() For some reason I wasn't sure if it would hold up as well for me today, but I have to say I enjoyed it almost equally as much. I had read this book once before nearly ten years ago and absolutely loved it. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |