This is once again, not an attempt to write a review on a book that was supposedly launched many years ago. Admittedly, I have been slow to pick up on the controversy surrounding its publication (burnt and banned in China, the works) and its sequel, which I had read earlier and mentioned somewhere in another blog.
I was just discussing about the novel with the manager and we agreed that one couldn't really feel for the somewhat self-centred protaganist, who seemed to be taking the sleaze and notoriety all in her stride. In some instances, I felt as though I was browsing through a scene in a Harold Robbins or Jackie Collins novel, and in some instances you wonder if quoting famous philosophers and writers really helped add a touch of sophistication to her writing style. Had my ability to read Chinese been cultivated since taking the 'A' level examinations, I reckoned it would have been much better to read the original text, rather than getting a westerner to translate the book into a rather uneven read.
However, as many detractors as there are admirers of the writer's uninhibited semi-biographical account of her life, I'd see it sit comfortably in the chicklit category, where one reads not get a deep insight into the meaning of life whatsoever, but simply to pass a lazy weekend lying in bed with a light read and a good cup of coffee.
Need Prozac? Carry on reading for an alternative cure.
I've Been..
Satisfying the wanderlust fascination.
Slacking.
Sleeping.
Shopping (wayyyyyyyyyyy too much).
Reading NW, Famous and 8 Days voraciously.
Chillin' with a pint of good beer or latte.
Indulging in purposeful conversation.
Otherwise, I'm happy for you to leave me alone.