The concept is good: an attempt to read 50 life-enhancing works and document that experience. The author does this in a highly readable manner and the book starts well. The first half covers the first 13 books in detail (as per his list on p.297). After that, something odd happens to the structure. He dedicates the second half to the remaining 37 books, but some of them barely get mentioned. Of course it's the author's right to structure the book however he likes, but it does feel imbalanced. Plus, this falsifies the "fifty great books" part of the project: you expect to read his thoughts on all 50 entries, not just a selection of them. I was looking forward to hearing how he related to On the Road, Catch-22, Lord of the Flies, Frankenstein and many other classics, but – confusingly – he ignores them completely.
Another issue is the tone of voice. Again, this becomes less satisfying as the book progresses. On p.201 he writes: "I did not join a book group to talk about my feelings. I wanted to talk about books: how they fit together, why they worked, the occasional miracle of fiction." So why, then, is so much of this book about his feelings rather than the books he read? There are countless personal digressions and too often he veers into chummy "blokey memoir" territory (see also Stuart Maconie, Mark Radcliffe, Andrew Collins) despite commenting at length on the "blokeishness I find disconcerting" in other men. Again, this confuses matters.
The Year of Reading Dangerously is at its best when the author writes in detail about the books themselves and what it feels like to read them – sometimes pleasurable, sometimes excruciatingly difficult, and sometimes both.
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