One powerful word: DEPRESSED. One guilty title: Alias Grace, by Margaret Atwood. But yet brilliant. How can this be?
The book is a compelling and elegant account of a young girl suffering from a personality disorder which gets her in deep trouble with the law. The story is set in the 1840s, against a backdrop of obvious lack of understanding of mental illness by the medical profession and her contemporaries.
But, hey, what a book. Despite turning into one of the saddest readers on earth, I just could not put the blasted book down. Interestingly this was years ago, and the story has stuck to me like a wet T-shirt sticks to you after jumping in murky water….if anybody can think of a better metaphor, please drop me a line. It’s meant to suggest that the story has stayed with me, although the experience was in itself depressive. Jumping in clean water, for example, if I am to follow my own perverse argument, would have meant a more enjoyable experience…I better leave it here…
Have you ever read a book that made you really, really depressed, but which you nevertheless would recommend as a must read? (And please don’t mention Nausea, by Sartre…)