This is probably the slowest I’ve ever read a book (I cannot even remember when I started, but it has to have been at least six months ago), especially for one this good.
I loved The Poisonwood Bible.
It’s exactly the kind of book I always wanted to write, but done more masterfully than I could ever do.
Quite aside from the plot and the characters, it’s so evocative that the Congo comes straight off the page. The prose is the kind you want to take pictures of, and show to anyone who will look. And that dreamy quality of the story, almost held apart from reality, was matched by my languid reading pace.
It’s a strange and new sensation – I wanted to know what happened next, but was completely content to let it roll on as and when I picked up the book.
I’m still processing all the wonder of this novel, but would wholeheartedly recommend it.