SACRILEGE
Just finished A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving. How I’ve loved listening to my man read this out loud. How I have grown to love the strange voice that became Owen’s voice, always in ALL CAPS. As he finished the last few pages yesterday, I felt the melancholy of saying goodbye to a good friend. Never having read a single Irving book as a young woman, the pleasure of discovering a treasure trove of good reading has got me anticipating what I will delve into next. I’m told his later works lack some of the magical qualities woven into his early work. I read somewhere that the opening line of this book is Irving’s favorite. “I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice – not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mothers death, but because he was the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.” I confess myself thoroughly delighted.