Ana V.

There are some books out there that don't make an impression on me, at all. This was one of them.

I take pride in the fact that I can remember 99% of the books I read: the story, the author's name (or half of it, or just the initials, but I've made my point), characters, random info about these characters. Put shortly, I know what I read.

A couple of days after I finished this book, I could only remember the fact that one of the characters had a problem with whores. The rest? It was the dead kind of history. And this only happens when I found that book interestingly.. stupid. Or, fascinatingly dull if you want to put it another way.

Seriously, I'd go to the author, shake his hand and say: "I'm sorry, this is just not going to work. It's not you, dear. It's me. Forgive me."

I got it, it's fast. And it sometimes touches (faintly) important problems, that the author tries (and may have well succeeded, I think) to understand and explain to all of us after. But it's just not good enough.

I'm sorry. It's not.

I could find a million ways this book could have been better, and I know it sounds like I think I'm the best and only I know shit, but it's not like that. I just have.. radical opinions, may I say. And I like to think that I'm right. Sometimes.

Anyways, fast read, treats a bit about religion, talks a bit about culture, history, blah blah and it comes back to humanity at the end, through a couple of happenings that change the course of the action.

The last 50 pages were probably the best thing o The Fascination of Evil.