I have read a few of these ‘literary detective’ type novels, where contemporary characters discover journals, or letters or other documents from the past and piece together stories of the people involved and for some reason they always leave me pretty cold. I just don’t get why anyone would be that bothered by the loves and lives of long dead people. I get that in this case the lives being uncovered are of famous writers and for the academics finding them it is a career changing coup, but still, I just didn’t care that much.
I did quite like both the poetic bits and the short mythological stories – because I read this as an audiobook, I didn’t have the hard work of reading the poetry but got to enjoy listening to it being read.
I thought the parallels between the relationships of the modern characters and the historical ones was quite interesting, but not enough for me to feel anything one way or the other – more like looking at people through a microscope than making friends with them.
Not one of my favourite books.
Sarah Wray Writer 