I have a love-hate relationship with the Booker Prize. I love the idea of having a prize to reward and recommend the best of the best English language books of the year. And I love some of them, The Life of Pi for example. I hate it because it also rewards self-indulgent wank as literature, such as The Finkler Question. For me, The Blind Assassin falls more into the later category than the former.
I found the book slow to get into. Which would have been fine, if it was 200pp long instead of pushing 600pp. When it is such a brick, it makes you wonder if you will ever see the end of the damn thing. It was disjointed to begin with I felt, with me trying for the life of me to work out why I was reading about lizard men from outer space. Slowly, ever so fricking slowly, you start to work out what is happening and how the lizard men or the people sacrificing virgins fit in. Finally you want to know what happened to the Blind Assassin much more than the trendily unlikable characters in the “real world”.
I found the book slow to get into. Which would have been fine, if it was 200pp long instead of pushing 600pp. When it is such a brick, it makes you wonder if you will ever see the end of the damn thing. It was disjointed to begin with I felt, with me trying for the life of me to work out why I was reading about lizard men from outer space. Slowly, ever so fricking slowly, you start to work out what is happening and how the lizard men or the people sacrificing virgins fit in. Finally you want to know what happened to the Blind Assassin much more than the trendily unlikable characters in the “real world”.
Oh don't get me wrong, I felt sympathy for Iris. I liked to some extent Laura. Agreed with Reenie. And cared slightly for Alex even though he was a dick in his own way as well. And it was because of this I finished it. But if I am honest, mainly as I saw the “twist” about 300pp in and then wanted the smug satisfaction of knowing I was right. Which may confirm that I am in my own way as self-indulgent as the Booker winners I hate. Bugger.
So in the end:
Next: The Inheritance of Loss - Darjeeling, India.