I finished Me Before You today by a British writer with the unlikely name, Jojo Moyes. It was a thoroughly satisfying read. I learned more about quadriplegics than I ever knew and I also had to look up Mauritius yet again. Best beaches in the world on the Indian Ocean.
It is first and foremost a "heartbreaking" love story. Does this mean it's like a Nicholas Sparks book?
Anyway, the novel is well written, quirky and smart, but I was annoyed with the reviews at the front of the book which said, I would "weep" with "redemptive tears" and that I would be "crying" when it ended.
Those kinds of predictions have chick lit written all over them. What man wants to read a book that will make him cry from heartbreak? I hate that labeling. I don't know why a man wouldn't be as entertained with this novel as I was, but I can't imagine him buying it in a bookstore after those reviews.
It almost turned me off the book myself, except that it was highly recommended by someone I know and trust. I hate the idea that women are a bunch of sniveling readers always looking for the next good cry. I don't cry. Give me a break.
Meanwhile, I'm still listening to Don Quixote, having breakfasts with Erica and eating raspberry chocolate ice cream at night with Thomasius. I went six months without ice cream. Why?
Bright and sunny here.
That book felt like a modern day Jane Eyre to me. Except Mr. Rochester is a quadriplegic. I read it in two days and loved it.
ReplyDeleteAlso, your summer sounds marvelous.
I've read this and One Plus One. I really admire her way of building real, plausible characters you kinda care about. Look forward to more by Ms. Moyes :-)
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