"Small trees attached my parents' house at the foundation"
What the heck?
That's the first sentence from Louise Erdrich's NY Times Bestseller THE ROUND HOUSE.
Perhaps I should revise that sentence, maybe it's too straightforward?
And since that sentence makes absolutely no sense, the author probably wastes two pages trying to explain it. A nice twist of karma would be if the offspring of the trees that had to be slaughtered to make pretentious mountainous wastes of time such as TRH would attack Louise Erdrich's house.
I started reading Marilyn Robinson's HOUSEKEEPING, and it makes sense, but it's like the author/narrator just rambles on about nothing at all.
For instance, "It seems as if there was a time when the dimensions of things modified themselves, leaving behind a number of puzzling margins..." Uh... Do I care? Um...no.
Freakin' annoying. No wonder so many people think they hate reading.
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