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One thing in the book's favor: the descriptions/accounts of the London Blitz in 1940 are vivid and disturbing.

Not exactly engrossed or enthralled - I've read entire novels in the time its taken to read these 72 pages.

Paris under siege, and under the "Commune" - quelle horreur!

Shouldn't be surprising that this is a pretty smooth read, despite the tumultuous decades that it covers.

Samuel Morse painted "The Gallery of the Louvre" in Paris during the cholera epidemic of 1832!

Into the home stretch . . .

This novel is like a train wreck - you can't look away - some of the characters are so despicable that you can't wait to see what they'll do next to save their grubby skins.

A bit more slowly-paced than I remembered.

Not a very long book, but rather slowly-paced; it alternates between two narratives.

Readable and engrossing, but not quite as fast-paced as later Robbins (though obviously better-written).

Engrossing, but not as fast-paced as THE CARPETBAGGERS, the second novel in his Hollywood Trilogy.

Took a while to get with this one, but it got better, and I'm almost finished.

The pace has picked up, and we are now into the backstory of Bick and Leslie Benedict's whirlwind courtship and marriage.

While I don't recall exactly how this book ends, I know it's not a happy ending - it's one of those books that just seems to have an oppressive feeling about it.

Not as fast-paced as Robbins's' later books were, but then, those later books weren't as well-written.

I am seriously, seriously, SERIOUSLY thinking of just skipping to the end of this padded, over-written book!

I think the term that best describes this novel is "over-written." And it plods, plods, plods - very slow pace.

Actually on page 126 of 275. The plot thickens - and thickens.

It got off to a slow start, but Price's memoir of his Oxford years as a Rhodes Scholar, the travels in-between studies and the people (many famous) whom he met during this time, ultimately becomes quite engaging.

A little over halfway through - it plods along at a slow pace; only barely resembles SPELLBOUND, the film made from it.

Hopefully will finish this today - it goes on and on - not to denigrate Macdonald, but considering that he wrote one basic type of novel, this bio is way too long.