A rare pleasure read, to pass the long empty hours of Summer, and it was a true pleasure. I could have wished that my sister didn't introduce the book to me in quite such detail as she gave it to me, and had simply said, "Read this. Trust me." Even without the joy of discovery, however, I was thoroughly captivated and read it in a matter of days. Part of this was due to the ultimate shallowness of the book. One would be hard pressed to find any deep or new ideas in it. There was no need to set it down and think about it. The speed with which I devoured it was also due to the vivid and original world it held: each of the characters was clear and able to form an emotional connection with the reader through skillful characterization and original observation.
With one exception.
The main character, Linus Baker, seemed almost purposefully underdeveloped. As exceptional as every other character in the book was, Baker seemed to have nothing in particular to recommend him as protagonist. A schlubby factotum was an interesting choice for the reader's entry point into this world, and one can only assume one of two things: that it was purposeful, so that he could emerge like a Papageno at the end with a message that even schlubby factotums can find love, or because this is how the author saw himself. Just an average man with a gift for detail, and a little bit of bravery lurking under the surface. Either way, the "everyman" choice is not new, and presumably warranted, but it makes the love story feel unearned. Arthur constantly says how wonderful the main character is, as though we needed convincing--and we do. We still do.
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