Blinding Light: A Novel by Paul Theroux
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
On December 1st I started reading Blinding Light, fascinated by the possibilities for a story about an author dealing with writer’s block and the remnants of 60’s consciousness issues. Ten days later, on a Saturday, I wrote that I had read much of the day’s Boston Globe, and a few more pages of Blinding Light. Three days after that, “I was thinking this morning of posting on GoodReads that I have read over 100 pages of Blinding Light, admire the author’s style and craft with words, yet feel very little motivation to keep reading.” It took nearly another month, and several renewals, to make it to page 137 and return it to the Library, having never found that motivation to finish it. This might be a more helpful “review” if I could tell you exactly what was the problem, but I can’t put my finger on it. I guess I just didn’t want to spend any more time with his cast of characters.
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