The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
Wow! Literally just finished reading this book. Diane Setterfield has written what I'm sure many will be calling a future classic. I love reading it. Whilst I was reading, I was transported into the world of Margaret's ... no, Vida Winter's story. But there were definite points where I felt I'd had enough; that I needed to put the book down and take a break.
I didn't pick it up at all over the weekend, but I didn't feel badly about it, just eager to pick it up and go on. I have seldom had this feeling about a book, though Anne of Green Gables and Pride and Prejudice affected me similarly, I think. It's been compared a lot to Jane Eyre, but to me it feels much more like Wuthering Heights.
I realize I'm not saying much about the book. That's deliberate. I'd read reviews that gave the basic plot outline, like I did in my last entry, but didn't really rush to read it. When I finally got a copy from the library, I managed to read the first chapter or two just before it was due. That was enough to make me realize that this was a book I wanted to own. The weird thing about it is that even though I rushed out to buy it, I didn't read it right away, but finished all the library books I had first, so that nothing would distract me from it. And even then, I haven't rushed through it, the way I do with a lot of mystery and suspense stories. The most accurate way I can describe it is that I savoured the book.
The title at the top of this essay is linked to the book's website. It's very cool.