I'm sad to say that I cannot bring myself to finish a Toni Morrison novel. Thankfully, it's simply this particular Toni Morrison novel. Sad things, terrible things, can and do happen in The Bluest Eye, Sula, Song of Solomon, and Beloved, but those novels also contained at least the slightest glimmer of hope or grace or the possibility of salvation. Not so Paradise, which begins with senseless murder and is an unrelentingly depressing disquisition on human nature for 160 pages (hardcover), or half the book, at which point I couldn't take any more. No más.
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