Last night I picked up the book my husband - the doctor - gave me for my birthday.
So much for that by Lionel Shriver (most famous for the Orange Prize winner
We need to talk about Kevin, which I loved in a scary, lots of sleepless nights kind of fashion) has been sitting by the bedside for several months and I finally thought I had enough time to read it. It is quite thick (531 pages - I've just checked) so it isn't necessarily a light read for the beach.
I read the back cover. It mentions Africa, retiring to Tanzania.
Interesting, I think.
It revolves around the question: how much is one life worth?
Interesting, I think.
The Literary Review states: "British readers will close this excellent novel feeling grateful for the NHS."
Ah. So that's why my husband thought I should read it...
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