Title: Dreadful
Review: I thought this was feeble; banal, unsympathetic and evasive.The author starts by telling us that in suffering from a depression, he considered that no previous writer had been able to communicate what depression felt like. He ends with the fanfare that, on re-reading his own novels, he discovered himself to have been remarkably intuitive about depression.He's tiresomely repetitive of the same bald point - " ... and then I knew I was really ill ... I was really ill and I knew it ... nobody understood how really ill I was ... and I really was ill ... really."The man strikes me as a Charlie who, on the evidence of his trite writing here, learned little about himself, little about the illness or nothing about others at all.A pompous little snivel book. Forgettable.
Is this product review negative?