After a year of only American books, I am looking forward to reading novels set in other countries. Kosinsky, Allende, and even "Avatar" have written stories sent respectively in eastern Europe, South America and India that harken back to the importance of setting as influencing the advancement and outcome of a plot. So I was then off, I thought, to Ireland with Emer Martin having Breakfast in Babylon.
Wrong, she never sets foot on the old sod. In fact her main character Isolt is hardly conscious of where her feet are, as she staggers stoned and drunk through Europe with the most degenerate druggies imaginable. For days now I have struggled with trying to come up with a list of adjectives that would tell just how miserable her life and "friends" are. I've decided not to bother ... and don't bother reading it.
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