I've been intending to read something by the novelist Kate Atkinson for quite some time now. Everything I've read about her, and whenever I've picked up something by her, has given me the distinct sense that she's a writer I would very much enjoy.
So when I picked up a cheapo cheapo copy of her highly praised Life After Life at Bras Basah some time ago I assumed it would make easy reading, thinking of it as something to be devoured, probably with ease, in the June vacation. Now here's the thing: I found it very difficult indeed to get started on, even though I had a fair idea of how the narrative was supposed to work. It's possible that the pain I was in from my back coloured the experience in some way, but I came fairly close to putting the novel to one side - essentially giving up. What kept me going was something like a sense of guilt, plus the desire not to waste $5.90. (Being a complete cheapskate has its uses.) The guilt stemmed from the fact that I regularly inflict fairly demanding texts on the kids I teach and assume that somehow they'll find the wherewithal to keep going, even though those who genuinely struggle in terms of comprehension are obviously in a heck of a worse position most of the time than I found myself in on this occasion.
Anyway, I ploughed on intermittently, bit by little bit, and continued to do so, sometimes half a page a time, when back at work, still in some pain, and very busy. I'm now about a quarter in, in the segment that jumps to 1947, and wondering why I was making such a fuss at first. It now seems not exactly an easy read (due to the startling disconnections of chronology amongst other features) but an absolutely gripping one. Can't wait to see what happens next!
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