“The Dreams of Bethany Mellmoth”

This may be damning with feint praise, but William Boyd’s “The Dreams of Bethany Mellmoth” is the kind of book you should take on holiday with you. Inoffensive, easy-to-read, unchallenging; perfect for the beach or to snuggle up with by a fire in a country cottage.

It’s well written – which is one of the things that makes it easy to read – and I suspect the style is a deceptive one; fluid, languid – lazy almost. It probably lulls you into a false sense of security which means you miss things; the sorts of things only a second reading will uncover.

But then a lot of books are like that aren’t they? And though I liked Mellmoth well enough, I’m not going to be re-reading it anytime soon…