
Although it seems completely stupid, it would have helped to have some sort of indication that this book was a series of short stories prior to beginning it. Instead, I was in the middle of the fourth chapter, trying to figure out why there seemed to be no connection between any of the characters mentioned in previous chapters. I finally saw the footnote on the back of the book that it was a "volume of stories", however, there was no preface stating this.
Anyway, I got to page 95 of this small print book that was chock full of winding descriptions, tangents, and flustering similes that took a concerted effort to understand, then even more effort to reincorporate that understanding back into the context. I couldn't get past the tiny details to understand the meaning of the story.
I will never pick a book again just because it has the word "Nobel" on the front cover. Blech, blech, blech. Thank goodness I borrowed it from the library.
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