Probably the last Graham Greene book that I still wanted to
read (I’ve read plenty of others, it’s time to move on). And, as it’s often the
case, this one was a good buy at Fopp.
I actually think it was the Greene book that I enjoyed the
least, and that’s chiefly because Pinkie is so purely nasty that it made me
actually quite uncomfortable. It’s bizarre, I have no issues with violence (I
love McCarthy!), or with evil characters, but nastiness is just a bit much for me.
Ida is a great counterpart, but her desire to do good was just not enough to
make up for the goosebumps that Pinkie gave me.
Had it not been written so well, I think this book would
have ended up at the charity shop with American
Psycho.
And I also could have done without all the comments on
Catholicism – I’m Italian, I have a feeling I know quite well the moral
contradictions of Catholic guilt and repentance.
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