Very intense! A stream-of-consciousness letter to Osama (yes the Bin-Laden one) from a (lower?) middle class wife who lost her son & police officer (bomb defuser) husband to a terrorist bomb blowing up an Arsenal/Chelsea match…which she feels even the worse about as she was having sex on their couch with someone she met in a bar (on a “my husband is off defusing a bomb and I am insanely nervous and when I am insanely nervous I go have sex with strangers” evening) when the bomb went off. She winds up going a little crazy and getting involved in some messed up situations, some beyond her control, and throughout it she continues her commentary, directed to Osama.

She starts the novel thinking if she tells him about her sweet, sweet boy that he killed, maybe he’ll just stop bombing things…and ends it in a very different place.

The sentences are long and breathless and meandering (they felt like something Elizabeth Crane or Megan Stielstra would write), the emotions are hot and present and flustered, and it all feels very, very real.

Blew me away, in more ways than one. Wow.

I think some of the social class commentary was perhaps lost on a non-Brit reader; there are a few places where I thought “and I bet THAT adjective is explaining to someone EXACTLY what position she’s found herself in but it’s not something we say here so it’s not really doing that for me.” But that did not denigrate my enjoyment or the content at all.

The Queen (of England) comes upon a lending library…and starts reading..and it changes her entire life.

This book was an absolute delight. Clever, funny and thoughtful. An excellent treatise on the many things reading brings one.

Slim book, huge margins, huge print. It’s a quickie. Really enjoyable.

She’d never taken much interest in reading. She read, of course, as one did, but liking books was something she left to other people. (emphasis = mine)