This is just good. Really good.
At first shallow, cursory, glance Richard Russo’s Bridge of Sighs is just another longish (600 some odd pages) story about a fairly unremarkable man whose sole claim to fame is that he lives his entire life in the same small town in upstate New York.
But, on a deeper, more introspective level we find it’s all about, um, well, er, you know, deeper more introspective stuff. Stuff I don’t have but let’s don’t worry about all that right now. I mean, one doesn’t necessarily have to understand EVERYTHING about sumpin’ sumpin’ just to enjoy the sumpin’, now does one?
So anyway, this is one of those books that book lovers love to read and hate to have end. From the very start Richard Russo pulls you into a story that’s as comfortable and comforting as your favorite pair of jeans, or that warm blankie on a cold day, or maybe the soft embrace that rubs away, at least for awhile, the sharp corners of life.
It’s that damn good.
Adding to the book’s readability is the book itself. Printed in a font on a type of paper that just makes it a big ‘ol floppy book begging to be read, it just kinda sprawls all over you, limply wanting.
Sometimes a book is not solely about content but also about the feeling it evokes and this one’s a warm fuzzy one.
Get it and read it and you won’t be sorry you did.