John Irving writes two different types of books. First, there are his more ecletic stories, like Garp and Hotel New Hampshire. Then, there are the more traditional books, like Cider House Rules and Prayer for Owen Meany. I’m not suggesting that the two styles are really that much different, but I’ve found that the people who really like Garp aren’t really that crazy about Owen Meany, and vise versa. I happen to like both styles, but I have to admit that I like Owen Meany best of all. I’ve never cried for a book before. But that one did it. I was seriously bawling at the end of it.
Thanks for reminding me about Irving. I keep meaning to check out Piggy Snead from the library. Maybe I’ll do that this weekend.