A review by gadicohen93
The Swimming-Pool Library by Alan Hollinghurst

2.0

I really wanted to like this book. It's about a hypersexualized handsome haughty Brit who prances about London's upper crust hunting for young prey in the Clubs and gymnasiums and public parks. The writing's honest about the depravities, the elitism, the frivolousness of his life -- and, above all, the gay sex. And that was what I loved about this book: It is an honestly-told awful life, and so much fun to read. As social criticism, it was superb. But there came a point in the book when the main plotline started to loom larger and larger on the horizon, and the old man's diary started to be excerpted in larger and larger word-counts, and the midnight instinct to fall asleep rather than vigorously read starts to weigh larger and larger on the eyelids, when I decided to call it quits. This book is hereby abandoned, but not because it was awful inasmuch as it was starting to go a different direction than I wanted it to, and I have better things to read.