The Lover – Marguerite Duras

The shortness of this novel prevented me from establishing any actual connection with either the narrator or her lover. I have never felt the (post-colonial?) pull of South-East Asia, and this is probably one of the reasons why this book ultimately didn’t speak to me. Or maybe I’m just immune to the romanticized memories of a sad little rich girl.

This book has had no impact whatsoever on me. That said, I’m glad I’ve read it, but that’s probably because it took little more than an hour of my (not particularly) precious time.