Scan barcode
A review by dannafs
The Golden Mean by Annabel Lyon
3.0
Since this is not the sort of story I typically read, I wasn't sure that I should get it from the library. However, the first sentence clinched me: "The rain falls in black cords, lashing my animals, my men, and my wife, Pythias, who last night lay with her legs spread while I took notes on the mouth of her sex..." Any book that opens with oral sex is fine by me! This is a somewhat historical, somewhat fantastical novel of Aristotle and Alexander the Great. Overall, I enjoyed it. I did have trouble with some of the transitions, what I mean: in the middle of the page, it seemed author Annabel Lyon would completely shift time and be somewhere else. The story is interesting, there are many war battles and lessons. There are some gory sections, so if you can't stand blood and guts, this may not be for you. There is also liberal use of "fuck" and even the occasional "cunt." I find that sort of thing endearing. I'm sure someone who is interested in this time period/history would find it even more interesting and intriguing. For me, it was just a change of pace.
My favorite scene:
"'Do you need a cloth?' I asked. Not wiping, though, but rubbing. She tried to use my fingers but I pulled away and told her to be more modest.
'What?' she said.
'I am finished.' ...
'You're finished. I'm not.'
Not knowing what to say, I let her continue. She arched her back a little and then collapsed in a series of spasms, moaning weakly with each exhale. An annoying sound.
'And what was that?'
I assumed her answer was a lie. My father had taught me what claimed to experience was not physically possible.
'Next time, you can help,' she said.
I asked her to describe her pleasure.
'Like honey,' she said, and, 'Like a drum.' And other similes: cresting a hill, waves breaking, the color of gold.
She said when I came I sounded like a man lifting something heavy and then, with a great effort, setting it down."
My favorite scene:
"'Do you need a cloth?' I asked. Not wiping, though, but rubbing. She tried to use my fingers but I pulled away and told her to be more modest.
'What?' she said.
'I am finished.' ...
'You're finished. I'm not.'
Not knowing what to say, I let her continue. She arched her back a little and then collapsed in a series of spasms, moaning weakly with each exhale. An annoying sound.
'And what was that?'
I assumed her answer was a lie. My father had taught me what claimed to experience was not physically possible.
'Next time, you can help,' she said.
I asked her to describe her pleasure.
'Like honey,' she said, and, 'Like a drum.' And other similes: cresting a hill, waves breaking, the color of gold.
She said when I came I sounded like a man lifting something heavy and then, with a great effort, setting it down."