Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Ok, I'll preface this with a disclaimer stating that I often revise my first impressions and that first impressions are not always right, but I've found the first 80 pages of Michael Chabon's new book irritating. This is my first experience of reading Chabon--I've heard nothing but good of Kavalier and Clay, but haven't yet read that book--so wasn't quite sure what to expect, but I definitely wasn't expecting what appears to be every single cinema Noir cliche to come marching out. In Alaska. An imaginary modern day Alaska. Is this his running shtick? Tell me what I'm missing, folks.