The Price of Salt

 Yet another disappointment. I guess I was expecting something similar to Gore Vidal's The City and the Pillar. Yet this book was so bad, so poorly written. Yes, this might be the first book that has a seemingly happy ending for two women in a relationship. But it is almost sad that this has to be it. And the "happy ending" was not even a good one. Two women waving at each other after one of them just rejected the other? The most interesting aspect of the book was learning about the old lifestyle that people in the 1950s had. Sending physical letters to have an actual communication when one goes on a trip. Leaving a forwarding address when one checks out of a hotel. Rolling down car windows. Using dictaphones. It was a nice reminder of how different the world was not so long ago. All of that being said, my favourite sentence in the book is: "I feel I stand in a desert with my hands outstretched, and you are raining down upon me." (Highsmith, P. The Price of Salt. p. 128). What a beautiful way to convey a feeling.

Lessons

 This was a nicely told story whose style reminded me of the film "Boyhood" (Linklater, 2014). As with many books, the plot has its interesting parts and its not so interesting parts. It comes together nicely at the end, when I found out that I cared for Roland and, consequently, for Lawrence. But I still think several parts in the middle could have been more interestingly written. I found myself thinking much about the sexual relationship between Roland and his piano teacher Miriam Cornell. I kept asking myself why did Ian McEwan feel like he needed to include that relationship in his book. The book would have been essentially the same without it, seeing as the most consequential aspect of Roland's life was his having been abandoned by his wife. Reading the book I thought that relationship was more important to Ian McEwan than it was to Roland himself. I do not find it a good sign when I feel like an author is desperately trying to input their intent or moral code into their stories.