ditching my freedom for a trip to the tropics

Those of you who follow my blog will probably be wondering whether I’ve finished reading Franzen’s Freedom – and the answer is yes, I finished it last night. What did I think?

I was impressed without being blown away. The Corrections had set me up for another masterpiece and although Freedom probably is a masterpiece in comparison to the works of other similarly contemporary writers, compared to The Corrections, it fell just short for me. But, as my husband was ever so quick to remind me every time I opened my mouth to utter, “but it’s not The Corrections,” –  I shouldn’t compare because no, it isn’t The Corrections, it’s Freedom. And the idea of freedom (whatever it means today), it most definitely explores.

There is no doubt that Franzen is a truly gifted author. His insights into 21st century American domestic, social and political life are nothing short of horrific, and only because they are so ghoulishly honest (here he reminded me of our Tsiolkas). How someone seamlessly weaves over 40 years of life – behind closed doors, intimate life – into 400 odd pages of delicate prose, I do not know but that is exactly what Franzen does in this novel.

Would I recommend it? Most definitely. Should you rush out to read it (if, like myself, you haven’t already)? I don’t know. I’m not sure it was that kind of ‘rave about’ novel for me.

So, what’s next from my forever growing reading pile? I thought I’d pick up some Miller. This is the second time that I’ll be attempting to read The Tropic of Capricorn and this time I feel like I’m in the ‘right place’ for it, if you know what I mean? I’ll keep you posted…

In the meantime, feel free to share what’s at the top of your reading pile and / or any random Miller ‘goss’ that I may not know …

Happy reading xx

P.S. I’m in love with my copy of Tropic of Capricorn (see above). I stumbled across it, second hand, last year and it smells (I have a thing for how books smell) and looks delicious! The edges of the pages are even blue… mmm. Bookish bliss.

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