A book of short stories, excerpts and essays about the love of reading and libraries? Of course I’m going to love it. A good father’s day gift for a dad who loves books.
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Volume VI of the amazing Story of Civilization series. So much of this period of history was new to me. I am getting such an education in history and philosophy.
Sure, the plot was predictable. Yes, the genre here might be closer to chick-lit than Iβm comfortable with. But, I still liked it. I liked the irritable, opinionated AJ Fikry, I liked his policeman friend, I kind of liked Amelia and Maya. Mostly, I liked the idea of an island bookstore owned by a cranky, book nerd. Oh, and all the literary references.
I loved this short, spare novella. In 109 pages, Keegan puts you squarely in the mind and body of its protagonist, Furlong. You feel the pangs of long-ago childhood angst, the chill of an Irish cold spell, the ugliness of small town bigotry, the warmth of a coal stove, the despair over the human cruelty. The Irish dialogue felt more like music or birdsong, making me wish my own language wasnβt so ordinary and flat. I felt sad to leave Furlongβs side after so short a visit, but the tale and ending was told in just the right way, with just the right words.
I enjoyed this book and its writing style. It would have been better if I didnβt already know the story from watching the TV series, but the fact that it was still as good as it was when I knew everything that was going to happen earns a five-star rating in my book. The TV show was good, but the writing here is terrific, and the character development is so much richer than what can be done on screen.
Highlights
Most of us hold that some things only happen to other people. Many of us hold that one such thing is death.
Lambβs laugh wasnβt a genuine surrender to amusement; more of a temporary derangement. Not a laugh youβd want to hear from anyone holding a stick.
The Service had a long and honourable tradition of women dying behind enemy lines, but was less enthusiastic about placing them behind important desks.
To outward appearances Taverner was a suit, but her heart belonged with the field guys, the handlers. Besides, if you removed operations from the curriculum, security didnβt amount to more than putting on a peaked cap and a shiny badge. As far as the war on terror went, you might as well start digging trenches, and handing out tin hats.
Alcohol thickened the syllables, and slurred the sibilants.