People just don't understand the nature of books about books. I keep getting snarky comments about why someone who "reads as much as you do" needs an instructional manual. It's not INSTRUCTIONS, wise-ass. It's an exploration of the novel as format. Sheesh.

It was the description of the waitress on the job that got me, the description she gave of how she loved to set the dishes on the table so quietly that she did not disturb the guests to her restaurant. I fell in love with this passage. This book became one of my first entry books into what has become a long personal study of happiness. The waitress mystified and intrigued me. How could a person with such a trivial job find such joy in her work? It was fascinating.

This is a fascinating look at what language DOES, what its parameters are in social terms. I thought this book was really interesting when I read it in the 1970s, and I have changed my opinion not one whit. Interesting. But not sparkling! Dry writing is, one supposes, inevitable in books on such po-faced topics as why language works the way it does. I don't really understand why the academic world has such animus towards wit in writing! It's possible to be informative and amusing, just look at Brian Greene's "The Elegant Universe."Still and all, it's a recommended read for anyone who feels language is more than just sounds to fill up silence. You'll come away from reading the book with an entirely altered approach to each conversation you have.