In the Springtime of the Year, Susan Hill

Blech.  Everyone’s been reading Susan Hill lately, and her books all sounded so creepy and cool, but I couldn’t finish this.  I stayed up late last night reading it, because I kept thinking I would read it until it got interesting and then I would go to sleep and have something to look forward to in the morning.  What a stupid idea.  I mean, that was always going to be a stupid idea, but it was particularly stupid in this case because the book never got interesting at all.  Two-thirds of the way through, I figured out that I was never going to like it, and I chucked it into my papasan chair and went to sleep.  Bah.  Oh, and then, and then?  Instead of getting up at 6:30, and reading the news in leisurely fashion, and watching an episode of Torchwood that seems to have totally stolen its idea from Buffy while working on my cross-stitching, I was so sleepy I reset my alarm for 7:30 and I had to get ready very very fast and go running into work.


So anyway I now feel too cranky to review this book properly.  Suffice it to say: it’s about a woman who spends a lot of time being very, very unhappy because her husband has died; and if you are waiting for something interesting to happen, you may be waiting a long time.  In addition, Susan Hill’s use of multiple staccato clauses drove me insane.

P.S. I may be being unwarrantedly harsh, because I had high expectations of a particular type, which did not align with the reality of the book.  Never a recipe for loving a book you read.  Bah.

One thought on “In the Springtime of the Year, Susan Hill

  1. It’s a review of a person who’s emotionally empty and too narrow-minded to understand the real depth of the book. The book’s extraordinary, making you cry and experience smth very contradictory. No doubt, worth reading.

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