I had to double check the spelling for assassin, I wasn't convinced there were 2 double "SS"s. But anyway, the book The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood is my latest and last read. I'm pretty proud of this feat after the growing stack of books with all sorts of paper, bookmark stickings - at least one can finally be released from the folding and inserting and be among the stuff I can pass on to whoever else.
It did take several months to read, in intervals, from start to finish but I have to say: towards the end, I was totally there, involved with the characters and ignoring strangers staring at my belly while I was intensely squinting under the sun, sitting on bench, in a park. Ok, I noticed the dog. He was just too cute.
Yes, something complete. Mess on the table back at home and even some more items needing attention in the kitchen but such satisfaction indeed from something complete. The ending did tug at my heart-strings a bit "ouch" like a life lived and then told after death but it couldn't have been more true to life than that. What irritates me is that now I'm craving doughnuts and that sort of café fare (blueberry muffins, coffee, cake - CAKE) that made more than several appearances throughout the novel. Ahh well.. Try and censor life and its not quite the same anymore.