byfrenk

Frank Tiggelman Tiggelman itibaren Saint-André-d'Embrun, France itibaren Saint-André-d'Embrun, France

Okuyucu Frank Tiggelman Tiggelman itibaren Saint-André-d'Embrun, France

Frank Tiggelman Tiggelman itibaren Saint-André-d'Embrun, France

byfrenk

This book did one thing for me (other than annoy me): it taught me not to hold on to things so much. Live life to its fullest and cherish what you have. Give to others instead of holding back because you never got what you expected out of life. I learned by example of the main character, that is, how not to live my life. I will say this: I liked the style/technique of seeing the main character's perspective both of her current situation and her memories as she is lying on her death bed. And I loved the way they merged together. And the way all the husbands/men of her life melded together as well. Imagery was well done, also. But the story...ugh! A yuppie woman falls in love with a man in one night at an outlandish yuppie wedding and regrets that he couldn't marry her for the rest of her life. And nothing else ever happened between them. At one point, her flashbacks deviated from the love object and it got interesting. But only slightly. Which told me only that she didn't really care about the tragedy. She only cared that she lost her "love." And that made me hate her even more. If that is what the author was going for... good job. In fact, according to Ann Lord/Stackpole/Katz/Grant, nothing else in life matters but that one man and those two steamy encounters. Nothing. Not her accomplished children, not her doting husbands, not her caring friends. In fact, in her recollection of them, they are blurry, dim and insignificant. I also felt that the children's dialogue in the other room while she was dying added nothing to the story. It was just them sitting around waiting for her to die.