read by Louise Brealey
I ended up keeping this book on my wish list for a really
long time—close to a year, I think—because while initially it appealed to me,
I started to have reservations about it and it got lower and lower on my list.
Finally, though, I was in the mood for something a little nostalgic, even if it
was British working-class crumbling-industrial-town nostalgia, after having
gone through the end of the world with the Amish; so I went for it.
And actually it was really great. I’d say that Dolly totally
reminded me of me at that age if it weren’t too embarrassing—oops, did I say
that out loud? Of course, Dolly’s humiliations and triumphs are exaggerated in
order to make them better reading. But it is, indeed, wonderfully amusing
reading, especially her gleefully lusty enjoyment of life in general and of
lust in particular. And her cultural touchstones—Blackadder, Blade Runner, and
her blundering entry into the local Goth and indie music scenes—made my heart
go pitter-pat.
Oh, and the reader was spot-on perfect. I can’t imagine this
in anybody else’s voice.
In short: I am so glad I decided to read this book after
all. I haven’t had so much fun cheering a character on in a long time.
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