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[felis_ultharus]

Last week, I finished Douglas Coupland's novel about lonely people, Eleanor Rigby. Overall, I liked it, but I thought it could've been much better.

A long time ago, Coupland was my favourite author. Gradually, he's waned on me. I'd read all his English-language novels up to Miss Wyoming, but after that last dull effort, I didn't really feel

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[sugar_spun]

I honestly hated Eleanor Rigby, and it really upset me because I'd really liked Coupland up until then. It was like earlier Coupland on narcotics - all the same messed up stuff that I loved but dealt with in a haze of pills and smoke.

[sugar_spun]

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[felis_ultharus]

If that's your inarticulate, your eloquent must be remarkable ^_^

I liked it better than Miss Wyoming, which was where he hit his depth of whiny-rich-people-wanting-to-reinvent-themselves, without any of the redeeming qualities of previous books. It honestly read like a Cosmopolitan article.

Eleanor Rigby had more depth, and a bit more humanity than Coupland usually gives us, and I appreciated both. It did still seem unfocused, though, and at times I didn't really like the protagonist.

In some ways, her son saves things. He's often interesting enough to carry things.

The pacing is pretty good as well. The images are hit-and-miss.

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[anonymous]

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[anonymous]

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