Edward Rutherford’s London is quite a literary feat with a page count that is over eleven hundred. It’s a great showcase for Rutherford’s prose style.
Rutherford takes his readers back to the time of Julius Caesar and creates several families as his vessels for exploring the rise and development of the great city of London. He creates quite a tapestry of historical events and personal struggles experienced by his numerous characters in his narrative.
Although this novel was not without moments of sluggishness in the plot, it is still an enjoyable reading experience on the whole. It was pretty thrilling to come across some of the historical events I recognized as not being that well-remembered. There are a lot of threads of which to keep track, and the sudden shifts in perspective kind of made things a little tricky.
There is no question that Rutherford is a talented storyteller. He also seems to have done an impressive amount of research which is laid out quite nicely.
It is a daunting book for many people, and I struggled a bit with retention of certain aspects of the novel. I think that may be more of an issue with my attention span rather than any downfall of the author.
I usually read simpler novels for my leisure time, but I like to challenge myself a couple of times a year at least, and London did satisfy that prescription. Even though I had some hurtles throughout the experience, I did enjoy the book and would recommend further examination of his other works. It may be a little while before I circle back to Mr. Rutherford, but I have no plans to avoid his other works. I was rather pleased with being able to take this on and stick with it.
I think it’s time to draw Harlan Coben out of the reading queue with Drop Shot, which features that sleuthing sports agent, Myron Bolitar.
Reviews, Musings, and Other Things... 