Never Let Me Go...

Finished Kazuo Ishiguro's latest (had been carrying it around in my bag for over a month before starting on it) on the train back from Calcutta.

Ajitha didn't like it much, but I was as taken by it as I have been by all the Ishiguro's I've read. Why? Not really sure actually. It was admittedly a weaker book than most of his other books. But the book is an amazing example of making the mundane exciting and interesting. And the whole 'point of view' thing. So despite the little weaknesses (which were more because of the choice of narrative than anything else), it survived as a superb, and totally gripping tale. Much - don't know if this sounds stupid - in the mould of Minority Report, a major favourite film of mine.

Have started on Marqusee's Chimes of Freedom: Bob Dylan and the Sixties since. Going well, as all Marqusee's go. Loads of information, loads of pleasurable reading, loads of ideas, loads of fodder for the thought mills...