The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I gave up on this one when it became clear that poor Edgar and his mama couldn't get a break. Wroblewski is a powerful writer, but his imagination is dark and mythic in a way that got just too heavy for my somewhat fragile psyche during a hugely snowy Maine winter. I got the book out of the library, power-read through what I *thought* would be the dark part, and then discovered that Wroblewski was going to make the rest of the book dark. . . . so I let myself off the hook. It's a hugely sprawling book with lots of echoes and overtones of myths, archetypes, Dante, etc. etc., but it's way too devastating for my daily commute. Wroblewski cuts no one a break in this story--no one, including any reader foolish enough to become connected to any of his characters.
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It's a lovely shiny morning; the temp. has probably crested at 23.2, and I am planning a run and a snowy stomp for the near future, then probably a trip out and about just to be out and about! I might go pat some lovely fabric at Marden's just to see some color that's not white, brown, black or blue! We had two snow days and a late start day last week; a winter storm hovers on the realm of possibility for Monday/Tuesday, and the next week is vacation. You've just got to laugh.
We had a fun meal with a co-worker of mine and his significant other last night: when I invited him, I said we just needed to get out of our house and eat something that wasn't leftover shepherd's pie. We went to The Cellar, and we had a lovely time, fulfilling both goals and also having a good visit. Tonight will be Ellsworth Winter Carnival fireworks at 6 pm, which should be lovely with the cold, clear sky!