When friendly coworkers want to lend me books I never know how to turn them down.
Especially history-teachers are hard to say no to, because somehow they always seem so awesomely knowledgeable.
Especially had to rebuff is this particular history-teacher with whom I have already discovered similar tastes in literature (although discrepancies have also been observed).
So I read this.
- Thorough historical expertise genuinely impresses me. Hence my inherent esteem for history-teachers.
- Elegant if self-important prose.
- Mercifully short! 150 pages long and the tiniest little sliver of a book I have seen in a long time.
- A World War II-overdose brought on by my husband's boundless passion for this conflict makes me nauseous at the mere thought of Nazi Germany. Not Vuillard's fault, though.
- For all its elegance, the prose is self-important to the point of being insufferably conceited.
In short : Not for me, thank you.