Chester Patterson is an army brat coming of age in the 50s and 60s. There's not really a plot, instead the novel is a series of stories from Chester's life, starting at 11 or 12 and continuing through college.
The prose was well-written and imminently readable, with some truly stunning passages and the premise, that life is a series of stories we tell to others, was interesting. Unfortunately, the book never truly grabbed me. I felt a lack of connection to Chester, and occasionally really didn't like him. I don't know if it was the unique format, or simply the fact that I have never been an adolescent boy, but I rarely felt involved in his life. Perhaps this was the intent.
Those interested in good prose and slightly pretentious story-telling might enjoy The Chester Chronicles, but anyone looking for a cohesive plot line and affinity for the main character might want to look elsewhere.
- I'm human, so I've got some issues, but all things considered I guess I'm reasonably normal. My parents are still married. My best friends are my sisters...okay, so I'm normal for the 1850's whatever. I'm opinionated and nerdy. I'm walking the line between tweener-style pop culture love (witness my ever-burning New Kids love and inexplicable Twilight obsession) and elitist culture snob (I can't seem to get enough 19th century British Lit and historical biographies) but, after 30 years, I'm finally learning not to give a crap what anyone else thinks about me. Oh, and those are my feet in the picture. The socks were made by a friend.