by William Kennedy
When words put their hands on my face, force me to look at them, inject their intensity into my eyes, my veins, and leave me exhausted when I look away, I know that the reading experience was essential, important, real. That happened to me repeatedly as I read this book. I ended loving the charact...
Francis Phelan has no place to call home. At least, none that he feels right to call home. An accident in his past drove him away from ‘home’. It is something that he will never forget nor maybe forgive himself. In this book, we follow Francis as he relives moments of his former life, the good ...
This is the absolute worst Pulitzer winner I've ever read. Were there no other books written in 1983? The author is constantly switching around in time and place in his story. Just when you think someone's dead, they show back up again in the narrative. This makes for a very confusing read. I suppos...
I think I read this for the seminar on alcoholism and literature. Depressing as all hell.
Log in with Facebook 
