And another book given to me by my colleague
as he was moving flats (this time, however, one that I greatly enjoyed).
Bliss’s plot is hilarious (a term that I normally detest, but that I think
describes the novel quite well) and its improbable twists all appear somehow
believable. I just kind of wish the reader was told what happened to Lucy and
her truck-driving boyfriend, but Carey’s novel remains for me a wonderfully entertaining
and witty portrait of a clash between high-flying career-focused people and, erm,
hippies.
And probably I also really enjoyed this
because I know nothing about Australian literature (well, it depends on whether
you consider Coetzee to be Australian…).
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