Last night I finished "The Sportswriter". So it's my first book read in 2007. I grew very fond of the narrator, Frank Bascombe. He was a man who was, I felt, somewhat adrift in his life. Recent tragedy in his family still hung over him like a cloud. He still maintained a relationship with his ex-wife, but it was on a formal footing and sometimes a little strained. His current girlfriend did not seem to be on quite the same wavelength as him and I could not see him ending up with her. We accompany Frank over the Easter Weekend on an assignment to interview an ex-footballer, meeting his girlfriend's family at Easter Day lunch and having a heart-to heart talk with a fellow member of the town's Divorced Mens' Club. Frank struck me as a guy whose expectations of life are pretty low - he has been dealt blows and survived. I intend to read the other parts of the trilogy - hopefully this year.
So, this morning I plunged in straightaway to "The March". I have, by the way, been reading in other blogs rave reviews of Nabokov's "Lolita". I am definitely going to have to read this, particularly as some bloggers are calling this one of the best books ever written.
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