Owen Meany.
This was a difficult book to read. It
was very intense, and I could only read it a bit at a time. Each time
I stopped I thought that I had had enough of it, but because it was a
reading group book, I came back to it and read a few more pages. I
think it is a religious book, but I can't determine whether it is for
religion or against it. Owen was an utterly obnoxious little chap,
makes Napoleon look like a gentle soul, the way he wheedles his way
into getting his own way. The narrator was a bit of a non-entity,
even when he moved to Toronto. I didn't like the way that it jumped
about in time, even jumping into two- or three different times. I
would rate it a 5 as sometimes when I was reading it I wanted to know
what happened next, and sometimes I was fed up with the way it was
going.
The Woodcutter.
Not entirely believable, as these kind
of stories aren't, but a thoroughly good read. This hidden
organisation that had it's feelers everywhere, and this Mr. Price who
knew everybody. But the hero, even though severely maimed, and hiding
his fitness under a limp, grabbed me. I have always thought that the
heroes of British thrillers are much more believable than American
heroes, who have super-human strength and resources. This man did it
on his own, without using overbearing power. The characterisation of
the upper class as given in his lordship and his overspoilt daughter,
I thought was a bit caricatured. Revenge was sweet.
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