Say a Little Prayer

Where have you been! I've missed you. Where have I been? Probably in my living room. Or walking around the block to return Netflix. Yes, the busy life. Right now I'm trying to figure out how to pay income taxes, but that is a dreary story. Now that the weather has turned hot and clear, dreary stories should be dismissed.

And so, I will tell you about A Prayer for Owen Meany. Most of you must have read this already. It's pretty old. If you haven't and you like novels - get it. Read it. This is one of those whipped cream books that you want to spread all over your body. Hum. Maybe not a great image. Lotion?

This book was written. It isn't just a plot with dialog and action tacked on. It's full of words and thoughts that make you stop to think. Here's a website with some of Irving's words. Those are great, but I guess you do need a plot to help you understand why someone would say them. So.

The book is about a small person with a strange voice who lives in New Hampshire. He kills, dies and loves but not in that order. You, too, will probably learn to love this guy. And his story. It helps if you subscribe to the political views of the characters, but that might not be necessary. If you read this book and don't agree with his political views, please write me to tell me if you liked the book anyway. I cried at the end. You must know that I don't cry about anything. But there I was with huge tears streaming down my face, sobbing. I knew what was going to happen in the end because fore-shadowing is big in the book. Didn't matter. Hiccuping sobs.
On the lighter side, I read a biography about Charles Dickens. I've been reading a lot of his books and decided to re-read the story of his life. This was pretty interesting. He was a piece of work. His attitude toward women stinks. I've just read Little Dorrit and was struck by the character Flora. Seems Dickens did not care for his old flames to grow fat and made a joke of the sweet Flora with her dithering and run-on sentences. He also preferred to bring young women relations into his house. That left his wife to bear and care for his kajillion kids. Ah, my kind of man. At least he likes words as much as Irving. But, for now, I think I'll try to read more Irving and less Dickens.