The Historian
I dunno about this one. I’m about 125 pages into it and frowning a lot. And skimming, which is not a good sign. I’m alternately bored and slightly grossed out (I say “slightly” because I somehow didn’t expect a story with Vlad the Impaler as a major player to be exactly a giggle-fest. The dude had serious control issues). Since I paid hardcover price (albeit with a Sam’s Club discount), I’ll probably finish it. The writing is good, no bones to pick there, but day-um, this is one loooooong book.
Which in and of itself shouldn’t be a problem. Lord, used to be I’d haul home from the library the biggest, heaviest historical epics I could find. Remember SARUM by Edward Rutherford? Scarfed that one down (with more than a few “eeewws” along the way — definitely not a story for the weak of stomach) in a couple of days, as I recall. So now I’m wondering if ten years of reading primarily commercial fiction, with its snappier pacing and generally shorter word count (Harry Potter excluded) has spoiled me for meatier reads, that I no longer have the patience for leisurely storytelling I once had.
That, or the book is just boring, Vlad’s escapades notwithstanding.
(And yes, I know I said I wouldn’t publicly pan a book, but I’ll make an exception when large advances and mega promotional hype are involved. Besides, it’s just my opinion, which is worth about a nickel on the open market these days.)
