I read this book yesterday morning and I hardly remember how I felt upon reading it. It's another story about the moral delinquency of the bourgeoisie, evanescent love, misery in artistry and well, adultery. Anything else to add?
I'm not puritanical but one thing I find in novels like these (novels detailing the purposelessness and futility and dilapidation of the human life) is God - or at least, spirituality for that matter.
One thing I liked about this book is the brevity. Everybody loves succinctness.
The book wasn't particularly riveting and the themes, I thought, were exhausted numerous times before in other books (or do I just tend to read books like this)? I'll have to read her other more famous book some time. Guesses as to what it is?
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