Why does Ann Patchett have to let me down every darn time? I fall in love with her books (well most of them: see Lucy Grealy) and then bam – she screws it up in the last five pages. Every single time.
State of Wonder was awesome. Until the end.
I don’t even want to talk about the end. I’d like to forget it happened. I’d like to pretend we’re still in the Amazon with our Martins and our Lapps. That’s it. That’s how I’m going to remember this book from now on. Don’t anyone talk to me about anything else.
Geez.