My stubborn-ness knows no bounds

I've just finished reading a book which I've been struggling through for months. At least two months, and that's unusual for me since I'm normally a pretty fast reader. However, this book was 900+ pages, and I didn't really enjoy it. And reading 900+ pages of a book you're not enjoying takes some time.

For the record the book was Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Many people have apparently loved it, if the reviews on the weRead FB application and on Amazon are anything to go by. And a few, like me, have hated it. I didn't enjoy it for several reasons - for one, a wince-inducing writing style with ridiculous descriptions. How's this for sheer annoying-ness: "She walked into Leopold's at the usual time, and when she stopped a table near me to talk with friends, I tried once more to find the words for the foliant blaze of her green eyes. I thought of leaves and opals and the warm shallows of island seas. But the living emerald in Karla's eyes , made luminous by the sunflowers of gold light that surrounded the pupils, was softer, far softer". Give me strength...

The other thing was made it a struggle was that I just hated the lead character. It's meant to be a sort of fictionalised autobiography, and I couldn't drum up any real empathy for a smack addict who escaped from prison, abandoned his daughter and family, and lived an essentially selfish existence for years on end. I did enjoy the bits of the book in which he suffered, but I don't think that was the point. And I'm not just being a prude because he was a criminal. I loved Papillon, for example, which was also about a prison break. The problem with Shantaram was that the lead character is essentially unlikeable - kind of Paulo Coelho meets the mafia. I don't like Paulo Coelho either, before you ask.

Perhaps it would have been more bearable with a decent editor. That would have got rid of the worst of the flowery prose and perhaps reduced its length by a good third. It felt like every little detail of the story was laid out, and a lot of that was just unnecessary. Every character, whether minor or major, was described in great depth, which made it very difficult to work out who was important and who wasn't.

So, why did I bother to finish it? Two reasons really: it was the book suggested by someone in a book group I've recently joined so I needed to finish it for the next meeting in November. Plus, I hate to give up on a book. I've only ever given up on one book and that was Vanity Fair - a bookmark still is in my copy, about half way through, so perhaps I can claim I've just paused, even though that was about 20 years ago. Next - a new Stephen King which I got for my birthday and still haven't managed to start. In fact, I'm off to bed and to start it now, in an effort to wash the taste of Shantaram out of my mouth!