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If you're the type of
person who looks for his books to have plots, this is not the book
for you. If you expect consistent narrative structure and linear development,
you're going to be pretty disappointed on that front as well. What
this novel does have, though, is a deeper feeling that transcends
the written word. Its descriptions and scenarios leap off the page,
as the author describes the goings on of a single block in a lower
class London neighborhood. All told in a roundabout flashback from
the perspective of the omniscient author, we marry the details of
that day with the first person future story of one of the block's
residents. The author sets the mood up front with beautiful prose
about the thrum and bustle of a modern city, and the one moment everyday
where the perfect storm of motion and noise ceases to be. The description
encapsulates the whole story--a story you think you know from the
beginning, but which turns out to be something completely different.
I'm kind of purposely being obtuse here, as anything I write about
the storyline itself won't do the book justice. I'd rather let others
read and soak in the feeling and sadness and hope that the thing emanates
for themselves.
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