The random books
one ends up reading when one (or one’s wife) picks up a large pile of novels
primarily because they are free. My parents had been talking for years about While England Sleeps, so I figured I
should give Leavitt a try.
It was an
enjoyable and remarkably light read. The one issue, though, is that I really
didn’t find much in the book that I could relate to: as an Italian expat with
very little intention of ever going back to the country I didn’t really find
anything too magic in the – rather standard – poetic and idyllic descriptions
of Rome; as the stereotypical manly heterosexual man, I found little interest
in the heady journey of sexual discovery of the main character; and as a
spoiled only child who always got along rather well with his mother, I had very
little interest in the relatively problematic relationship between the titular
Page Turner and his mom.
So yeah, a good
book to read on a Sunday afternoon while one is trying not to think of the
state of his legs after running 18 miles (damn marathon training…), but that’s
about it for me…
