The first ThisWine book review comes about under somewhat awkward circumstances. First off, I only just started the book tonight, and thus am nowhere near finishing it or coming up with any legitimate opinions about it for some time.
Secondly, it’s Friday night. A few texts from my college roommates confirmed the oddity that my life has become – in the span of time that they have known me, I have gone from borrowed Wet Seal tube tops and sugary $3 well drinks to a book and a bottle of barolo. (Most would likely say that is for the best). So for better or worse, I find myself writing this post as I settle down to read by myself in a quiet apartment on a weekend night… It’s cold outside. I have a cuddly puppy. The actual radio is on, softly playing in the background. I dare someone to disagree with my decision to stay in.
But I digress. The third absurdity of timing is that I have been wanting to read this book for a few years now and just never got around to getting hold of a copy. Once I have finished, I will update this post with a proper review, but in the meantime, the book is Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, and ten pages in, all signs point to magnifique.