Lisey Landon can bite me
I blogged a little while back about giving up on the Booker Prize and instead my next book would be Stephen King's new book, Lisey's Story. I was looking forward to it a lot, because after some time off the boil, Cell had signalled a return to form. Well that'll teach me because Lisey's Story S U C K S. It's laboured, it's tiresome, it's structurally all over the fucking place. Most damagingly of all, the internal language of the central relationship and indeed the relationship itself is maddeningly irritating. I am hating every page of it to the point that I just ordered two new books off Amazon (Rupert Everett's memoir Red Carpets & Other Banana Skins and the apparently wonderful Special Topics In Calamity Physics) and when they arrive, Stephen King's latest effort is going in the trash. Shame.
1 comment:
I think the last King novel that I truly enjoyed was NEEDFUL THINGS. I never really understood people's fascination with the Dark Tower series (although I am going to try reading them all in one big dfose next year to see if I missed something). The reviews of this were really good, but I've resisted picking it up out of being burned by shit like INSOMNIA, DESPERATION, THE REGULATORS, and that BLACK HOUSE thing with Straub.
I'm currently reading Tom Perotta's LITTLE CHILDREN in the hopes the film makes it to these parts. Kate Winslet looks gorgeous in it.
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