|Title: A Spool of Blue Thread||Author: Anne Tyler|
|Pages: 358||Genre: Fiction|
|Recommended: If you like bland books with 2D characters and no point whatsoever|
|Song: Sad trombone|
This book was a big
“A Spool of Blue Thread” seemed critically acclaimed and was well praised, so I put in on my reading list. I wanted so badly to like it; for the characters to come out of their shells, but down to the last page it disappointed.
This book follows three generations of the Whitshank family and their Baltimore home. Told un-chronologically, the story meanders through each family member.
It’s a dud of an attempt to tell a multi-generational saga. Listening to it was like watching a parade of paper dolls in a Barbie house. A few characters had potential Barbie, Ken and Skipper potential, but they never fleshed out.
The spool of blue thread is supposed to represent that connection between generations and the love and forgiveness between them. This spool is mentioned once. If this book were a spool of thread, it would be the cheap kind. The kind that breaks when you try to thread it through the needle.
I really, really hate writing negative reviews, but the point and meaning of this book was totally lost on me.