I’m working my way through The Book Thief by Marcus Zuzak and when I say working, that’s partly what I mean as it feels like rather a slog and it’s holding me up a bit. Perhaps it’s because it has received such universal praise and comes freighted with high expectations, but I’m not enjoying it quite as much as I thought I would. It is a little too quirky and gimmickyfor my liking, the prose is gawky and self-conscious in places and it leaves you with the impression that the writer is trying too hard to please. With a little more restraint it would be a perfectly pitched and unusual study of a terrible period, but I don’t think it quite achieves that. Call me picky…
Later this evening I’m off to my reading group (hello girls) where we will be discussing The Behaviour of Moths by Poppy Adams. I really enjoyed this - the characters were eccentric and plausible and ambiguous and it was all very subtly done. And the writing was a treat as well — what’s not to like? My only quibble was with the ending, though I’m not going to talk about it because I don’t want to give anything away, but I thought it was a little far-fetched and extreme. A fantastic first novel, all the same.
