Cecelia Ahern (Hyperion, 2006)
Have you ever been in a situation where you were pretty sure you had said something particularly clever or deep, and people just didn’t get it? I feel that this book, Cecelia Ahern’s fourth, is the literary equivalent of that situation, except in this case I’m the one who doesn’t get it. And for saying that I’m not altogether sure if I should be embarrassed.
Oh, it’s not for lack of trying on the author’s part. She introduces us to a character named Sandy Shortt, who is not at all vertically challenged or sandy-haired; who obsesses over finding lost things (and people), until she herself goes missing (oh, the irony!) and ends up in a place where everything and everyone ever lost are, uh, unlost (or should I say “deposited?”), and where virtually nothing is lost (again) — but let’s not stress that last point too much, because the world works in mysterious ways (and if it’s some kind of parallel dimension, maybe more so), so who knows if our heroine just might be the first person to ever make it out of there? Wouldn’t that be the irony to end all ironies? Ahern certainly peppers the book with enough of them to make Jessica Zafra blush (and she’s Mistress of the Universe).
In fairness to the author, this is the first book of hers that I’ve read, so maybe it’s the equivalent of being introduced to Sidney Sheldon by way of Tell Me Your Dreams, or to Umberto Eco via The Island of the Day Before. I learned from the back cover that film rights to her novels have been bought by Hollywood. Impressive for a 27-year old, but I’m still not looking forward to the movie version of this one.
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