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jjp723 's review for:
The Marriage Plot
by Jeffrey Eugenides
You know when you get to a point in a book and you have that feeling that maybe you should just give up and move onto something else? I felt that pretty early on in this book - but I think I doubt myself when it comes to whatever "good writing" is, so I soldiered on. I thought that the constant discussion of authors and works I either was unfamiliar with or completely clueless about would bug me, but maybe that cluelessness allowed me to zip by all that with no annoyance? And I have to say - that was the right choice. It took a bit but once I warmed up to the characters I was hooked - I cared about them, I understood the dumb mistakes and crazy actions and confused feelings. And I like the ending made up of loose ends, just like real life. Recommended.
*College wasn't like the real world. In the real world people dropped names based on their renown. In college, people dropped names based on their obscurity.*
*It was the stupidity of all normal people. It was the stupidity of the fortunate and beautiful, of everybody who got what they wanted in life and so remained unremarkable.*
*This was news. This was, in an inappropriate but real way, good news.*
*The experience of watching Leonard get better was like reading certain difficult books. It was like plowing through late James, or the pages about agrarian reform in Anna Karenina, until you suddenly got to a good part again, which kept on getting better and better until you were so enthralled that you were almost grateful for the previous dull stretch because it increased your eventual pleasure.*
*College wasn't like the real world. In the real world people dropped names based on their renown. In college, people dropped names based on their obscurity.*
*It was the stupidity of all normal people. It was the stupidity of the fortunate and beautiful, of everybody who got what they wanted in life and so remained unremarkable.*
*This was news. This was, in an inappropriate but real way, good news.*
*The experience of watching Leonard get better was like reading certain difficult books. It was like plowing through late James, or the pages about agrarian reform in Anna Karenina, until you suddenly got to a good part again, which kept on getting better and better until you were so enthralled that you were almost grateful for the previous dull stretch because it increased your eventual pleasure.*