The Paris Wife by Paula McLain
Were it not for my book club, I'd never have picked up this book. I prefer non-fiction to historical fiction. It is distracting to me to be wondering, "How do you know she thought that or said this?" However, I had heard so many good things about The Paris Wife that I set aside my reservations and tried my best to just enjoy the book as a work of fiction, and not think of Hadley or Ernest as real people.
That made it worse. Written as a first person narrative, McLain's Hadley never caught my interest. She neither garnered my sympathy nor excited my curiosity. She was too removed even from her own story for that. She lacked passion. She lacked depth. I thought more than once that she seemed to be sleepwalking through her own story.
I wanted to toss the book aside, but, for book club, I rewarded myself with PBcups for continuing to read it. That is sad. Delicious, but sad. Unlike the book, which was neither delicious nor sad. Just blah.