Title: Trite as shite
Review: Niffenegger is a broken woman. Some man, somewhere, broke her heart and so, as artists are apt to do, she used that pain to create this novel. Unfortunately, she used it to create Henry, an idealistically perfect and laughably implausible man. He's witty and devoted and handsome and says the perfectly scripted things at the perfectly scripted time, and he cleans up well and is well-read. Oh, but he is an alcoholic, which, strangely, hardly seems to be a problem for anyone. Garbage.He has no depth; his love, Clare, has no depth. They sit in their home with their angsty time-travelling problem, being hip and so beautiful, and nobody ever says anything REAL. I felt like I was watching Dawson's Creek. I'm sure Niffenegger is a lovely woman, and I'm sad that she was slighted somehow, but she is a poor, poor writer. This book is trite. Not one character rings true. Not one.
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