And I'll admit this first thing: I didn't even finish this one. I kept feeling like I needed to take notes. Charles Frazier is brilliant and his writing dense (there is a reason he won the National Book Award) and I couldn't read his story without wanting to dissect and analyze it to pieces. Since my purpose was to have a book to somewhat "fall" into between shifts at work and it is impossible to simply fall into Cold Mountain, I found myself avoiding reading altogether. I refused to lower my self-expectations to discover every intricacy Frazier wove into the book, but I couldn't muster the time or energy to meet those expectations. So, untrue to myself, I stopped reading and turned to Sparknotes.
Since the ending turns out to be dreadfully disappointing, I'm glad I did.
I may be way off on this, but some segments of Cold Mountain involving Inman's trek home reminded me of Faulkner's As I Lay Dying. However, it's been a while since I read that little dreary piece, so forgive any ignorance.
Anyway, I'm still adding Cold Mountain to my list of books.
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