Very disappointing. Clare Clark is a compelling writer (I finished the book) but I find it difficult to like her characters. And I don't mean just one or two individuals in the novel -- I mean darn near everyone. I read The Great Stink and felt the same way. Clark is a painter with words -- but a painter of landscapes, not portraits. I've never been to Louisiana but reading this I could feel the beating of the sun, the relentless humidity, hear mosquitoes and the buzz of dragonflies, could just about smell the morass of odors arising from the swamps. But I didn't feel a thing for Elizabeth, nor her husband, and was only vaguely interested in young Auguste. I have read so many books where I was so engrossed by the characters and their paper lives that I'd gasp out loud if something unexpected happened to them! Recent reads where I've experienced that level of involvement are The Game of
Thrones (all of 'em, save the newest, which is on it's way to me now from Amazon), Skippy Dies, Perdido Street Station, The Last Child, The Hunger Games, Under the Dome, and The Passage. But Clare Clark's characters just don't "grab" me. I won't be reading her again -- two strikes and she's out.
Thrones (all of 'em, save the newest, which is on it's way to me now from Amazon), Skippy Dies, Perdido Street Station, The Last Child, The Hunger Games, Under the Dome, and The Passage. But Clare Clark's characters just don't "grab" me. I won't be reading her again -- two strikes and she's out.
