Like Herman Melville, I thought John Irving was a srs bsns author and I wouldn't want to read anything he wrote, and like Melville, I was wrong. This book, at least, reads a lot like Vonnegut with the wackiness turned down. The beginning was great and the ending was very satisfying (by making the book better than the sum of its parts), but maybe the 2nd quarter was not my taste, and I almost stopped reading, but I'm glad I didn't.
Take away was two things: Mindy Kaling is exactly like me, Mindy Kaling is not that likeable. Harsh takeaway.
Definitely engaging and page-turning, but looking back after finishing it there was more cliche than I expect from Ian Rankin
Nothing happens, it's obvious nothing is going to happen, but it's extremely readable and kept my interest.
Definitely a “the man behind the legend” alternative narrative of Shackleton. The title needlessly makes reference to Ireland, as this isn't particularly focused on Shackleton's Irish heritage or even life (I put off reading this book because I was worried about it being only nominally about the explorer). I will warn readers that it (fairly, given the intent of the book) TOTALLY glosses over the cool, exciting, unbelievable stuff of Antarctic exploration. So you also need to read “South”, “The Worst Journey In The World”, etc. to really appreciate the Shackleton legend.