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    <name><![CDATA[Simon]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[Brussels, Belgium]]></location>        
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      <rating>4</rating>
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  <read_at>Wed Jul 01 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Thu Jul 16 04:10:00 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Thu Jul 16 04:24:50 -0700 2009</date_updated>
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    <body><![CDATA[I was prepared for this to be complex, multi-layered, dense and allusive, which it is. What I didn't expect was that it would be quite so funny. Kinbote is a hilariously pompous buffoon to rank alongside Ignatius J. Reilly, although he also, particularly at the end, displays glimmerings of self-awareness which turn him into a rather tragic figure. <br/>It's like a house of mirrors which defies attempts to establish who or what is &quot;real&quot;. The wikipedia page lists any number of theories as to which characters are aliases or aspects of others, which is fascinating but, I feel, misses the point: the book is satirising critics and their over-elaborate analyses. <br/>By the way, Mary McCarthy's painfully pretentious introduction almost put me off reading it at all, but afterward I found out that she was a noted satirist in her own right - maybe her introduction is part of the joke...?]]></body>
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