Paul Harding (5) (1967–)

It was ok. He still spins out way too much for me, though.

I know this is a good book but I didn't especially enjoy it. Too nebulous and abstract for me. But I will read his other one now.

I liked it, will read his others.

Writing is evocative and compelling in oddly intriguing ways, like learning to tinker enough to repair an antique clock.

Yet, death, depression, and dying are the pervasive elements, so that normal conversations come as highly welcome intervals!

How strange and welcome that George's early attempt to escape his family set the stage for his Father.

And still, a major undercurrent is the intricacies of what we will want to remember in the hours of our final days and nights.