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« on: April 12, 2016, 10:17:57 am »
Since I spent most of the weekend on the train or standing in lines (reading - I went to the biggest s-f convention in Poland), I finished reading the book by my high-school friend. It's really strange - a bit of fantasy, a bit of horror, a bit of magical realism - and a lot of truth about depression and all those little hurts that we carry on from our childhood and that influence our lives, unless we finally come to terms with them.
I had one small problem with the book. It's written mostly from the protagonist's PoV and in first person - and I couldn't help but see my friend in those parts, so many things about her life that I know of overlapped. Still, a very good book.
I've already started another one, a novel by a Polish philosopher, who started out writing folklore-based fantasy and now writes something I have no name for. It's not realistic prose, although actually there are no fantastic elements in it. But the language, the language is beautiful and captivating. So captivating that in fact after reading each of his novels so far I had bouts of thinking in his phrases.