I dove into John Irving's new novel
Last Night in Twisted River over the weekend. I've always enjoyed Irving's books, having read probably his first 6 or so, but haven't read any of his stuff over the last 15-20 years. Part of the issue, I suppose, is that his books are generally very long. This one is 554 pages (which is maybe short for him). I have heard of him being referred to as a modern American Dickens, and that's probably not a bad description, as his books do have that kind of scope and scale. I am about 90 pages in, and probably have the better part of two weeks in front of me. Good so far, and already showing his propensity for random acts of fate dramatically affecting peoples' lives. In an Irving novel, you can be walking down the street and have a piano drop out of the sky and land on you...and usually do.
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