Alacrity

I finished the fourth Gregory Maguire book (not his fourth, my fourth in order of reading), Lost. It's similar in style to his other books, and still fanciful, but it's not another fairytale-redux. I'll quote what I told my mother about it:

The plot is really odd. A woman goes to London to work on her new book about a woman who's mildly obsessed with the Jack the Ripper mystery, but then the writer herself seems to be a little obsessed with Jack the Ripper AND with Scrooge, which her family believes Dickens based on their great-great-great-grandfather, AND with her cousin who disappeared from town just as she arrived. Totally weird. At different times, it's a mystery and a ghost story and a love story and a tragedy. Really odd. My main problem with him is his tendency to have everyone pissing themselves, and talking about people going to the bathroom (in the fairytale books-- why did he have to mention when people used the chamberpots??). He has a serious bodily-fluids obsession.

This concludes my campaign against Wicked. It may or may not be a good Broadway production, but it's not a very good book. If you want to sample the Gregory Maguire goodness, please start with Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister or Lost or even Mirror, Mirror. Just save Wicked for last. Maybe if I reread it, I would enjoy it more since I have a better feel for the style. The question I have for myself is-- why did I follow up a book I didn't like by reading the author's entire collection?