I don’t know why I expected a retelling of Hamlet to end happily. But when I realized, over the last few pages, that no one would be coming back to life, I was stunned.
Inappropriate side note: if anyone out there ever publishes a novel of mine, please find a way not to include my photo on the back flap. Not to impugn Wroblewski’s looks — I didn’t recoil in horror or anything — I just think it takes the focus away from the story. Similarly, don’t call me “a massively talented writer”; instead, say that the book is “a new landmark in American fiction.”
But yeah, the book: worth reading once for the rich description.
If Marley and Me tells you what it’s like to have a dog, Edgar Sawtelle shows you what it means to have a companion.