Sick to My Stomach

Three years ago, I read John Grisham's A Time to Kill. I had been a Grisham fan for a long time, and so I had no qualms when I picked it up from the library. I remember the day that I finished it; that book made me sick to my stomach. I felt dark and frustrated.  I listened to some Taylor Swift and ate ice cream to calm me down.

The other day, I finished The Dinner by Herman Koch. The story revolves around two couples whose sons have committed a crime together which is under investigation.  The couples go to dinner to discuss what should be done.

I felt the exact same thing when I finished this book as I did after the Grisham. Just sick, and actually a bit angry. You learn many upsetting things all the way through, but the ending is really the final straw; it's just awful.  It's not poorly written, in fact it was one of the most engaging books I've read in a long time, which is probably the main reason I soldiered on to the end. But the plot made me shudder.

I don't regret reading it (and if you have, let me know because I need someone with whom to discuss the particulars--so many unresolved questions). But it's not a place I would like to revisit.

My next book is hopefully much happier.