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Love, Again tells the story of a 65-year-old woman who falls in love and struggles to maintain her sanity. Widowed for many years, with grown children, Sarah is a writer who works in the theater in London. During the production of a play, she falls in love with a seductive young actor, the beautiful and androgynous 28-year-old Bill, and then with the more mature 35-year-old director Henry. Finding herself in a state of longing and desire that she had thought was the province of younger women, Sarah is compelled to explore and examine her own personal history of love, from her earliest childhood desires to her most recent obsessions. The result is a brilliant anatomy of love from a master of human psychology who remains one of the most daring writers of fiction at work today.

Published: HarperCollins on Oct 13, 2009
ISBN: 9780061849718
List price: $9.99
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I think, when it comes down to it, my overriding emotion with this book is disapointment. This book is possible the best ~100 page novel about love I have EVER read. Unfortunatley, it's 340 pages long. When this book is good it is very very good. Infortunatley, in between the good there's a lot of unnecesary babble and irrelivancy and it grated. Every time I picked this book up I had to force myself to do it which is why, as much as I loved this book, I can never really love it. Love, again is possibly one of the best descriptions of love and depression I've ever read. It's nuanced and so achingly longing. The problem was I felt it was a description and not a novel. It was almost like case notes on a love. Of course, the main character is well drawn out, complex. In fact, many of the characters are intense and compelling, it's the connections between them I find week. The dialogue is, frankly, appaling. I get the point that the book is trying to make about how we don't talk to each other and how this is carried in the dialogue but in doing this a lot of character development was simply skipped over. There were also a lot of refrences to literature which, frankly, went over my head and annoyed me. Because I'm simple like that.read more
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Reviews

I think, when it comes down to it, my overriding emotion with this book is disapointment. This book is possible the best ~100 page novel about love I have EVER read. Unfortunatley, it's 340 pages long. When this book is good it is very very good. Infortunatley, in between the good there's a lot of unnecesary babble and irrelivancy and it grated. Every time I picked this book up I had to force myself to do it which is why, as much as I loved this book, I can never really love it. Love, again is possibly one of the best descriptions of love and depression I've ever read. It's nuanced and so achingly longing. The problem was I felt it was a description and not a novel. It was almost like case notes on a love. Of course, the main character is well drawn out, complex. In fact, many of the characters are intense and compelling, it's the connections between them I find week. The dialogue is, frankly, appaling. I get the point that the book is trying to make about how we don't talk to each other and how this is carried in the dialogue but in doing this a lot of character development was simply skipped over. There were also a lot of refrences to literature which, frankly, went over my head and annoyed me. Because I'm simple like that.
Is this review helpful? Yes | NoThank you for your feedback.
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