by Richard Ford.
Quickie recap: Frank Bascombe (of The Sportswriter and Independance Day) is 55, newly diagnosed with prostate cancer, and newly left by his second wife for a man previously thought to be dead. Frank's been asking himself some very hefty questions.
Quickie review: On the one hand, Richard Ford has been writing significant literary contributions since before I was born, who am I to review a Pullitzer-prize winner? - but on the other, well, I am the girl who said Moby Dick could kiss my ass. But the truth is, Frank Bascombe is like an old friend, and in this case, familiarity breeds intimacy. I haven't an unkind word to say about this book. Frank clearly lives in this world, where relationships flounder and parents fail and everyone eventually wonders why, and reality isn't always pretty, but that's okay. It's okay if life still has sharp edges because it's real, and so is this book, and I think Ford still has the touch for showing us how things really are.
Quickie recommendation: Fully.
2 comments:
I read the first 3rd of The Sportswriter and was mopey and depressed for a month afterwords. I wonder if the conversation at the dead kid's grave did that to me, or the divorced men's club guy confessing his gay tryst did it. That book was brutal, and I barely read any of it.
You just need a thicker skin my friend.
Read, and be glad you're not him.
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