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elisegodfryd 's review for:
To the River: A Journey Beneath the Surface
by Olivia Laing
I think in the end it comes down to the fact that I just don't connect to Laing's writing style. It made me feel the same way "The Lonely City" did, that, when the author embarks on these meandering, aimless, often dull (excluding the Virginia Woolf ones, of course) tangents, she's forgotten about her reader. To be fair, it's possible I entered into this with unfair expectations of what it would be about - I should probably just read a Woolf biography instead.