I heard Charles Bock on NPR while he was touring for this book. His descriptions of the amount of research that it took to write this novel was impressive, and I thought that I needed to read it as soon as my fantastic librarians could dig it up for me. (I'm horribly lazy and they are wonderfully cooperative.)
From the first ten pages, I knew that I couldn't read it. Not after this fantastic run of good books. No way. I would not be able to be objective; or, it simply didn't live up to my expectations of language now.
Eventually, I'll have to read a less than stellar book and review it. But, right now, my mind pleads, "Not yet! It's summer... indulge yourself."