Hand

A choice of Accommodations and Hell-Heaven were the low points. Far too many banalities. But like I was telling S the other day, reading her stories often feels like sitting outside a sound-proof glass room where you can see a couple fighting, almost tearing at one another, but you can't hear a word. If you choose to look the other way, it is as if nothing's happening at all. A silent underlying "tension", as my friend puts it, a kind of foreboding. But then, it all dissipates almost as unceremoniously as a gradually deflating balloon.

The last trilogy though was redeeming. Written largely in the first person, it allowed the author to be more subtle and uncanny with her insights. For me,irony is an important part of any good work of fiction, and its flow, which was surprisingly thin in the first half, became steadier later. After the initial reluctance, I had adjusted to the tempo and now that it will change again, I will readjust.