I finally started The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I’m a little less than half way into it, and all I want to do is go lay out under the sun outside and disappear into this book.
The beginning chapters are a little slow and filled with descriptive writing. I’m usually wary of books that over-emphasis any kind of emotion, and since the first 5 pages are nothing but a long-drawn out love letter to literature, I kept putting the book aside.
I had to take the train to work today, so I was able to push into the core of the book, where the story takes place and the characters come to life. The story is beautifully written and its easy to get lost in the narration and forget your own surroundings. The book seems like a more mature rendition of most VC Andrews books I’ve read (my guilty pleasure reading). You can immediately tell the author’s influences for the writing style. There are traces of the Bronte sisters weaved throughout the book. Wuthering Heights sticks out in my mind particularly.
Just like Water for Elephants, this is another book I kept putting on hold, and chose purely because of the cover, and then never got around to reading.
I also packed Reading Lolita in Tehran. I like to be prepared in case I finish a book and still have time left before I have to catch my flight.