Reading roundup

Mrs. Dalloway
Virginia Woolf

I first read it when I took an undergrad course in Woolf. I liked it then, though I found its stream of consciousness and frequent changes in perspective challenging. Less challenging today, which I like to think reflects my maturity and breadth as a reader. Stylistically, every sentence reads like poetry, in a good way. There is more social criticism than I remember. One of the great works.

The Friend
Sigrid Nunez

A girl and her dog. And her grief. I could have lived without the philosophical digressions about writing, but the book is overall engaging and lovely. Now a not-so-major movie at a theatre or streaming service near you. 

Long Island
Colm Toíbín

I loved Brooklyn. This is the highly praised sequel, which I found disappointing and dull. Maybe I have been reading too many virtuosic writers, including Woolf and Banville, and Toíbín's style is just so dry in comparison. I was looking forward to finding out what became of Eilis Lacey, the complex and compelling hero of the first book, and indeed she is here, and still admirable. But ultimately this is Jim Farrell's story. And Jim is no Eilis. The ending reads as if someone tore the last few pages out of the book before handing it to me. I know, it's on purpose. But I couldn't muster much interest in learning or even wondering whatever would become of Jim.

The Last Policeman
Ben H. Winters

This is a pretty conventional crime novel, with an appealing young detective, embedded within a pre-apocalyptic near-future dystopia. You see, a large asteroid will collide with Earth in a few months. Dystopia is really too strong a term, since, naturally, different people react to this impending doom in different ways, and not all of the ways are bad. That said, not surprisingly, suicides are up, and many people– including cops– are not inclined to dwell on whether a slightly suspicious suicide might not actually be a murder. After all, why does it matter? But our young hero and narrator Henry Palace can't help himself and, of course, suicide it's not. Published in 2012, pre-COVID and pre-Trump, there is an innocence to the narrative that you may find refreshing... or depressing...