I’ve been reading this book for about 24 years. I can no longer take it back to the library I loaned it out from, because the library has become a cinema. That cinema was knocked down 5 years ago and made into a Blockbuster Video. Last year that Blockbuster Video was knocked down and made into a Starbucks. So, I’ve just left the book on the shelf in Starbucks. If Starbucks ever release a coffee that takes 26 years to drink, this could well yet become the perfect book.
Is this book good? Well, in parts. Is it intelligent? In parts. Is it beautiful? In parts. Does the author occasionally throw in the best metaphor I’ve ever read? In places, yes. But, the problem is, the book is so massive and long, the stars are lost to the galaxy. The moments of greatness that are in this book, are too far apart for it to have the great impact its reputation claims it will have on the reader.
There is brilliance, yes. But there are also chapters that go on and on where agents are talking film rights and, well, these parts made me want to put my head into the arse of a horse. I am sure they were factual, but they did nothing for the pace of the book.
I feel like the author was unsure whether to write a book or a newspaper article, and landed nowhere.
A good book, yes. One of the great books of all time? Not in my opinion.