![]() ![]() ![]() Eventually, in tiny letters by the barcode, I found the word ‘autobiography’, and all was solved.Īs when I read Ali Shaw’s The Girl With Glass Feet and only discovered halfway through that Ali was a man, it was an instructive lesson in how such things influence my reading. ![]() Lots of talking about him being a humorist par excellence (more on that anon), comparing him to Woody Allen and Oscar Wilde (because they have so much in common…), and talking about ‘his world’, which I suppose is a clue, but could equally apply to the world created by a novelist. I felt somewhat justified in my false assumption, though, scouring the blurb, because nowhere does it say that it’s autobiographical. Indeed, I was about thirty pages into it before someone referred to the narrator as David, and I suddenly realised that (a) the narrator wasn’t a woman, and (b) it was autobiographical. I took it up to the Lake District with me, thinking it was a novel. ![]() Turns out it’s memoir.Ī similar thing happened with Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim (2004) which I received from my friend Laura in a book group Secret Santa in 2011. At some point along the way, this noticing must have developed into delusion, because for some reason I was sure it was a novel about a girl with mental development problems. I’ve often seen David Sedaris’s book Me Talk Pretty One Day in bookshops, and thought it was a good title. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |