Now that it’s cooling off and I’m taking the train and bus more, I’m reading more. I’ve just started on The Electric Michelangelo, which begins with a portrait of a downmarket northern-England seaside town, where the protagonist spends his childhood. According to the back of the book, he’s going to grow up to be a tattoo artist in Coney Island. Reviews are good, and Bookdwarf liked it. So far, I like it as well, although the prose is a little overwrought in places. Still, it’s nice to read something and know that the writer has paid a lot of attention to how the words sound and feel together, and tried to make it beautiful rather than just easy to digest.
Secretly Ironic 