This book, one that I finished in six days, one that I pored over every chance I got, one that has made April a month for more than one book, was one of the best I have ever read.
The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles, a French novel only recently translated into English, centers around the lives of two sisters. One, a scholar; the other, a trophy wife. Both women feel that their lives are lacking, but neither is sure where she'll find what she's looking for. And so one writes a novel and the other gets the credit and, to put it bluntly, all hell breaks loose. There are side stories and minor characters and things that don't tie up quite neatly at the finish, which might account for the mixed reviews I've read for Katherine Pancol's novel. But for me, it was spellbinding. It was normalcy, enlightened. Flawed, certainly, but aren't we all?
Sometimes, you buy and book and it's a really great find. At first glance you think that there's nothing about this world, these characters, this creation, that you relate to. As the story weaves on, though, you find yourself hidden behind every turn, and it's sort of miraculous. This book did it for me. Just, everything.
To find yourself where you never thought to look. What a treasure.
"I'm starting to sound like a bad romance novel, she thought. I have to get a grip on myself."
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