I read this book just after I left school, about 8 years ago and although I can remember passages it had very little impact on me at that time in my life. I picked my copy up again a couple of weeks ago and threw myself into it and have come out the otherside with a new addition to my notable pile.
I was just caught by the way Richard Yates writes, from the very first page... "He let the fingers of one hand splay out across the pocket of his shirt to show what a simple, physical thing the heart was..." through the argument that Frank & April Wheeler have in the middle of a street to having to pause, resting the book in my lap after being overwhelmed by reading the sentence "...and they fell asleep like children", on a train journey home.
The book was so hopeful, so contorted, so full of betrayal and grief, so well written and so honest.
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