cheating. AGAIN.

Ok ok, I cheated again. But I really couldn't remember Embers by Sandor Marai at all, so it was kind of not cheating after all. Right?

The only thing I could remember was that it's about two old Eastern-European men sitting in a room chatting. And to be honest, a week or so after reading it again, I can't remember much more. It's about two old Eastern-European men sitting in a room chatting - fifty years after their friendship broke down and they last saw each other. There is a specific reason why they stopped being friends, and it's basically this that they're discussing, but I can't say what it is without ruining the first third or so of the book. Although you can probably guess.

I was going to say that this is the kind of book that people either love or hate, but I guess that's not really true because I apparently found it completely forgettable. It's one of those books that is more about atmosphere than plot, and it excells in this because it's so well written - I think in this sense it's one of the few books where the cover actually gives you a really good representation of what the content is going to be like. The story is not very directed, often it's quite philosophical, often about the nature of friendship itself, which depending on the kind of reader you are, you'll either find really interesting and beautiful, or just irritating and you'll wish they'd just get to the point already. Which I'm afraid to say they never really do as far as I can remember.

If you like atmospheric, philosophical, introspective writing then you'll probably love this book (Molly?), but if you like directed stories with a moving plot, then this will probably bore you silly. I apparently fall somewhere in the middle, which means that I enjoyed the book, and then immediatly forgot it. Twice.