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Here I am ploughing my way through the Booker finalists and I have to buy two other newies for my Christmas consumption. I do like reading my novels in hardback.
First is the new Le Carre - I love David Cornwall and consider he and Gerry Seymour our two best living British writers (Graham Greene was the third until he died).
Second is the new Zoe Heller - I thought her Notes On A Scandal should have won the Booker that year (though I also loved Vernon God Little which I think did).
I think I have mentioned this, but the book I actually hated most this year was "On Chesil Beach".
What is interesting is that I hated it probably because it so well written by McKewan and the characters so well thought out and described that it made me really dislike them.
I would not even want to bump into his couple that feature in the book on a Sunday afternoon walk, they would be the pair that you would keep your head down as they approached and pretend that you had a stone in your shoe!
But what can one say? Ian McKewan made me loathe his Edward and Florence characters by sheer good writing.
I wonder if anyone who read the book loved them?
I loved the book as you know Mart (it was me that insisted he read it) but I feel sorry for both characters.
In a way they suffered - in a totally different way - from exactly what I should have suffered from - the social (and basically I blame religion) suffocation of sexual honesty.
It ruined their lives. It tried (and failed) to ruin mine.