I've found a book that I don't WANT to read. There have been exactly two over the years that I haven't been able to finish because they were a bit beyond me, but I regretted the fact that I had to give them up.
This book I could quite happily never look at again. I would go so far as to commit that most heinous crime of tearing it into pieces. I would then throw those pieces out of the highest window I could find. When it was raining.
It's the most annoying load of rubbish I have ever read. I suppose some leeway could be granted as it was written by a Brazillian writer and has gone through translation. But that still only makes it incredibly annoying instead of utter claptrap. I mean it waffles on for an entire page in a kind of stream of consciousness gibberish and then goes 'I do not mean to write anything complicated'. I nearly threw the whole book out the window when I read that. The prize for the second most stupid line goes to 'I feel ashamed at pouncing on you with a narrative that is so open and explicit'. I can only desperately hope that the writer is being ironic.
The book, if you ever fancy subjecting yourself to the tedium, is The Hour Of The Star by Clarice Lispector. It comes highly recommended for use as the lining of a cat litter tray.
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