As it turns out, The Grand Complication, by Allen Kurzweil, is neither ingenious nor particularly erudite, as Doris Lessing claimed it to be, and for this, Lessing has fallen a little in my estimation, though I console myself a little, thinking that were I to confront her on this shameless blurbing, she'd wave it off, "Business, you know, and besides, that was years ago; maybe I exaggerated, but still, it was quite fun."
I shouldn't gripe. I hadn't wanted ingenious or erudite; I'd wanted something light, and that's what I got. A nice little diversion, about library cataloguing and research.
(I'd enjoyed A Case of Curiosities a couple years ago.)
The resolution is clumsy, the villain's motivations never made clear (I love a bit of ambiguity, but this just lacked sense), the love story not quite credible. There are some annoying shifts in tone, for which I'm sure I could muster up a logical rationale if I set my mind to it, but I can't be bothered.
The Literary Saloon has a review, along with a comprehensive list of others.
It's a little bit clever, but there's really not much else to it. Which is fine.
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