I really tried to like this book. It came recommended to me from reliable sources, but MAN. Maybe I should read up on Pontius Pilate some more or something, because I just could NOT get into it. Basically, everyone in Moscow goes crazy. And that's sort of funny the first time, but reading each individual descent into craziness just gets boring after awhile. So boring that I put down the book a little over halfway through and haven't picked it back up again.
The only other book I think I have ever done that with was Anna Karenina.
I think the lesson we can retain from this little experiment is that Russian literature is not my thing.
Good to know.
