Disclaimer: I think Michael Ondaatje is a beautiful writer. His novels are good novels, but I prefer his poetry.*
Ted Bishop told me once that poets shouldn’t write novels. He was joking, of course, but there’s something to that. This book incorporates a bunch of really great things – intertextuality and real-life stories and poetic prose – but it misses out on a few very important things. I don’t care about any of the characters. None of them are well-developed enough for me to be concerned about what happens to them. The sort of non-linear timeline works stylistically but also furthers the disconnect. Maybe this book would benefit from another couple of reads (In the Skin of a Lion certainly did), but at face value, I’m not completely impressed.
Books read: 23
*just bein’ pretentious on a Monday night, like you do