I read the first half of this book in the waiting room before a doctor’s appointment last week; the previous book was a giant hardcover, and this fit nicely into my purse. It doesn’t, however, fit neatly into any category, or even into my psyche very well. It’s about passion, dance, and motherhood, and it’s a little unsettling. I finished it last night and it was beautiful; almost poetry more than prose. Huston’s style reminds me of Anne-Marie MacDonald – very fluid and intriguing. I’m not sure I really “got” the ending – maybe I was just tired? - but it was a gorgeous journey into words and I really enjoyed it.
appx 200 pages – I don’t have the book here to check.