Last night I finished "The Elegance of the Hedgehog".
It was not an easy read and many times I got frustrated with it and wanted to throw it against the wall. Ok, not that violently frustrated (I did want to do that to Bryce Courtenay's Tandia when I got to the end). But I did feel rather exasperated by Elegance on more than one occasion. I wanted to lose myself in a book, something non-medical and gripping. This book made me think about philosophy and sociology and frankly, I wanted a romp.
But as the chapters wore on, it grew on me and the characters really came to life. And then the last 50 pages enthralled. Ohhhhh...and the end. The END! I couldn't sleep. I just lay there, head-lamp on, reading the last few pages again and again, crying.
No sleep. More crying.
It was a good book, in the end. I think I'll have to tackle it again from the beginning, less standoffishly.