The Luminaries by Eleanor CattonMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
"It is 1866, and young Walter Moody has come to make his fortune upon the New Zealand goldfields. On the stormy night of his arrival, he stumbles across a tense gathering of twelve local men who have met in secret to discuss a series of unexplained events: A wealthy man has vanished, a prostitute has tried to end her life, and an enormous fortune has been discovered in the home of a luckless drunk. Moody is soon drawn into the mystery: a network of fates and fortunes that is as complex and exquisitely ornate as the night sky."--Goodreads
I really wanted to like this critically acclaimed and highly-praised book. It had so many characteristics that I like in a book: it was lengthy, well-written, had interesting characters and story, even a Dickensian flair that I enjoyed.
Why, then, was it so hard for me to read this book? I literally had to force myself to read it. I only finished it because at some point, I figured I had invested too much time in it to just abandon it.
I ploughed doggedly through it as if it had been assigned to me in school and I was going to be tested on it.
But I feel no sense of accomplishment or satisfaction on completing it. Maybe it was because there was no one character I was really rooting for? I just don't know. I liked Moody, and Anna Wetherell was a solid character, but neither were developed enough to really care about.
All I know is, life is too short and there are too many amazing, page-turning books out there to spend time forcing myself to read a book.
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