I'm just getting started (ready for chapter 4, King Sugar), but I'm hooked. I would be further along, but I've been buried under some reading for my classes. Now that I'm caught up, I'm planning to spend the rest of this afternoon buried in the Hochschild. (get it? buried?)
One of the surest signs that I love a book is the frequency with which I interrupt whatever my husband is doing to force him to let me read him a passage. That's already happening a lot with this book - to the point that I've promised to stop and let him read it for himself when I'm finished.
This from a person who has spent most of her life shunning books about history. Who'd have thought? This book club must be warping my brain. (I now count John Adams as one of my all-time faves.)
1 comment:
Maybe we should have a support group for long-suffering companions of readers. Stu, Gordon, and Roger could be founding members?
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