The beginning of this book is positively fantastic. It is a novel about novels in which you are reading about reading. It is a book about the reader. It is different, in fact, I think I can guarantee that you will never read another book like it. After reading the first two chapters I was prepared to give it four stars. In chapter three it got a little weird but I waded through it expecting the novel to get back on track in the next chapter. And then I ran headlong into the fourth chapter which was atrocious and the book went rapidly downhill from there. I continued on because I was determined to read all 100 of these books in their entirety. But then chapter six rolled around and destroyed any final hope of this book's redeeming itself. I have now completely abandoned it, never again to darken my mind with it's absurdities.
Basically, this book isn't worth the paper it's printed on. It could have been but it isn't. I hope the author is happy.
One good quote:
"the novel to be read is superimposed by a possible novel to be lived, the continuation of your story . . . or better still, the beginning of a possible story."
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