In my recent reorganizing of bookshelves in my workroom, I came across this unread copy of best-selling, made-into-a-movie, Booker Prize winning The English Patient.
I have no idea when I acquired it--could be 25 or so years ago. I know that for whatever reason--maybe because it was so talked about at the time, maybe the cover that made it look like a romance, maybe I was afraid it would be too sad . . . who knows?
Anyway, I pulled it out and set it where I couldn't ignore it any longer. But I did, for about a month, till, surfeited with the undemanding comfort reads I've been enjoying, I took my challenge and began reading.
And I'm glad I did. It's no romance and it's not heart-breaking--it's a strange and beautiful tale of four very different people thrown together by war.
I won't attempt to summarize it-- you've probably read it or seen the movie (I haven't.) But I found it a compelling read, one that I expect to return to before long. I may very well get the audio book, the better to appreciate the language.
Meanwhile, I've begun reading God's Perfect Child, a book by Caroline Fraser who was raised in the Christian Science faith but left it.
I'm a total non-believer but am nonetheless fascinated by some of the more extreme manifestations of faith--the Amish, the Hassidic Jews, the snake-handling churches, celibate communities . . .
Mankind is strange and wonderful.
