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This book is not for everybody. Let me repeat myself. This book is not for almost everybody.* [See test below] Even though I will probably buy a copy of Against Nature, I’m not sure it’s for me.
The hero [the picture from the book jacket above really sums him up] is a decadent aristocratic French guy who moves from Paris to the near countryside because he is sick of it all. He lives an isolated life among his books and in his head and continues to be sick of it all until he has to return to Paris on doctor’s orders.
This book fascinated me because of the main character who was truly a piece of work. But he was a genius of all senses so every description vibrated like an LSD trip. I have never read such precise emotional writing about color. I have also never read a book with such obscure literary allusions. I read this book unusually slowly because each chapter sated me. [Snob note-That’s how Oscar Wilde felt too.]

* React to this passage:

A smile puckered his lips for he suddenly remembered … and also the passage in Albertus Magnus where the miracle worker exounds a most peculiar method of discovering, with the aid of a lettuce, whdther a girl is still a virgin.

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