I finished two books today. The first was Dickens and Prince, which I mentioned to you when I checked it out of the library last week. I enjoyed it enough to finish it, but it is probably a better fit for someone who loves Prince a little more and Dickens a little less. At one point he mentions that he hasn't read a particular novel and I was like, "What do you MEAN, you haven't read Barnaby Rudge? [I think it was Barnaby Rudge. Maybe Old Curiosity Shop.] How can you write a WHOLE BOOK about DICKENS if you haven't even read Barnaby Rudge?" At the same time, I have not listened to nearly enough Prince to have opinions about his opinions. There's also a fair amount of Nick Hornby in the book, which I found a little distracting. Grumbles aside, the comparison works better than you might think, and it's an interesting window into the lives of two extraordinarily creative and prolific figures.
I also read The Eating Instinct this week. I snagged it when the author mentioned it was on sale -- currently available for only $2.99. I found it interesting and well written, compassionate and thought-provoking. Her older daughter was born with a complex cardiac anomaly that almost killed her, and she was tube-fed for a long time in consequence. It's partially about her family's story but more broadly about the pervasive food weirdness that is everywhere in this culture. She manages to weave ARFID (Avoidant-Restrictive Food Intake Disorder) and bariatric surgery into the same narrative: we've lost sight of how to feed ourselves.
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