3 of 13 people found the following review helpful
Oh. My. God. This is one of the worst and longest books I've ever Read. Besides, the pretentious introduction in which Fowles applauds his own writing and wrongly so. It's all much ado about nothing. I want the five days of my life back that I spent trudging through literary hell. The plot is ruined by an immature bourgeois Oxford type whose solution to handling women is by slapping them. On top of what could have been an incredible read with an intriguing plot, Fowles has made one of the biggest fouls against literature in literary history, by adding ceaseless and unending repetitions of the same long-winded pseudo-philosophical drizzle at ten-page intervals throughout the text.