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Originally Posted by issybird
I’m done with When We Were Authors by Kazuo Ishiguro and it was abominable. Flatly unbelievable, it could only work as an absurdist novel with a big payoff, but no, it ended in all seriousness. So the tedium of wading through all that malarkey was wasted. An unreliable narrator is one thing, but a totally irrational one is another. This was the worst book I’ve finished in a very long time.
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I've never managed to finish any of his books, so full props to you for sticking it out to the end. Of course, then I have to turn around and ask you "Why?"
Quote:
Originally Posted by WT Sharpe
I finished The Deeds of the Disturber (Amanda Peabody Mysteries #5) yesterday, and I have to say that when it comes to describing scenes of domestic tranquility, no one excels the late Elizabeth Peters (Barbara Louise Mertz). For those unfamiliar with the series, Emerson is Peabody's husband and Ramses is her son, now eight year old during the events covered in this book. Peabody and Emerson are Egyptologists, hence their choice of the name for their son.
"The house was blissfully quiet. Emerson was at the Museum; Ramses was in his room, mummifying a rat or manufacturing dynamite, or doing something of the sort. How peaceful it all was, and how devoutly I thanked Heaven for my manifold blessings!"
~ Amanda Peabody
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Ah, yes. Ramses being quiet. The one thing you can be sure of, THAT won't last!