A wonderful book, gorgeous in colour and texture, magnificent in scope, wildly funny. (Elspeth Barker in The Independent on Sunday)
My thoughts (hastily scribbled on a postcard):
Tremendous. A shame to finish. Not least impressive is the transition from seemingly petty squabbles and small beginnings to world destroying grandeur; there is no discontinuity between the Hero of classical literature and the Everyman of realism. It is not a sentimental humanising of the Hero (as in Virgil), nor vice versa, but rather a deconstruction of both; the Hero (or Monster) is shown to be precisely human, of human origin and emotion, which is precisely why they seem so heroic or monstrous. The Moor is little more than a thug; but we have grown up with him, sympathised with him, appreciated his wit, been beguiled by his words; and all this makes his thugishness all the more disturbing. The great characters are somehow further because they are nearer, and yet their distance is at the same time closer. Tremendous.
Written 18 June 2000
No, I don't understand that last sentence anymore either ;-)
