When I read a really, really good book I have a hard time beginning a new one. Different than the restless reader's block I experience from time to time, where I just can't seem to settle on a particular book, this is more about digestion of ideas and a reluctant good bye to characters that have newly become a part of my own emotional landscape...so it is with "A Prayer for Owen Meany".
It was on my "to read" list for years, but my friend Mel's love for John Irving finally gave me the impetus to bump it to the top. Well written, definitely. Irving's manipulation of the timeline in this book is masterful. Thought provoking...belief vs. doubt, predestination, the power of religion...I am left with a lot to mentally chaw on. But the genius of the book lays in the character of Owen Meany, the strange little guy, with the permanent scream and the unshakable faith. A character that could have so easily become a caricature or a mere curiosity, becomes a revelation of humanity and spirituality.
Owen Meany went straight to my heart like an arrow. I am pierced with him...wounded, heavy, bleeding thought and feeling.
I need a minute, time to digest, time to mourn, time to recover.
A moment of silence for Owen Meany if you will.
11 hours ago