This one is hard to explain. I really enjoyed this book, digging into the history of a book and its author. The unique feature of this novel is that the narrator is the book itself, and if that sounds confusing it all works out much more clearly when you read it.
This is fiction wrapped around non-fiction, with the pages rubbing so closely together that we’re not sure which is which sometimes. The characters introduced here are all viewed from the perspective of a book that one of them owns, and the author does a great job of limiting narrative to what the book sees (or has seen). This isn’t as limiting as it would seem – these pages have seen a lot over the years, and they know their human readers well.
This was a unique read, with themes of immigration, the meaning of love and getting along with others, and it comes together nicely at the end. It made me want to read some other books (I love it when a book has me adding new titles to my reading list), and there is a lot of reverence here for the written word.
An added benefit of reading this book is a new desire to go explore Berlin, and also it left me with this juicy tidbit from one of the characters who was talking about how they spend time at a country house that he had recently bought:
“My wife says we would have a rule – no phones, no devices, we would just walk and make meals and talk and be alive.”
The Pages was an excellent book and one that I’d recommend. Next I’m reading Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Tucci.
