Occasionally somebody (read: Mackenzie) will recommend a book to me and I will put off reading it for months and months for some reason or another. And then I will read it and I will feel two conflicting emotions: one, disbelief that I did not read it earlier because how could I have lived without this book in my life, and two, great joy that I did not read it earlier because that meant that I got to read it for the first time now!
Atonement by Ian McEwan is one of those books. Fuuuuck.
I think it was the most beautiful piece of fiction I have read in the past two years. No fucking joke.
1 comment:
Umm. Hmm. I told you so. Is that the appropriate thing to say at this moment? I think yes. Now I want to reread it but lord know I have not the time.
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