My most recent book read is The Turner House. I was expecting big things from this book. The literary world seems in love with it. Maybe I expected too much. I thought the book was good, but not great. I can kind of see why people may love it because it was frustratingly on the verge of greatness (though for me only on the verge and not achieving the greatness others see in it). The story is about family and Detroit. Family dramas often appeal to me and Detroit is a city of interest to me, so it seems just like my kind of book. The beginning was interesting and the last 3rd I thought was particularly good, but the middle dragged. Maybe I would have thought it was as great as everyone else if it hadn’t dragged to the point where I stopped reading it and read two other books instead.
However, I don’t mean to act as if the book is terrible. It’s not. It’s a solidly good book. And I think others should read it, both because it is a good book and because there must be a reason so many other people love it.