Talk about a breaking dry spell. I hadn't finished a book in two weeks, and was, thankfully, under a deadline to finish reading Present. Between that book and this book, I'm hoping the drought is over.
This book is yet another in the ongoing series of books my mom left for me to read. I am amused by her selection, and happy for the exposure outside of my typical science-fiction-fantasy genre of reading (though, with Harry Bosch, Virgil Flowers, Jack Reacher, and Walt Longmire, apparently mystery-crime-fiction-action has become an acceptable genre in my repertoire, so maybe my fiction tastes aren't really that weird any more).
So, yeah, this book. It was okay. It's about three generations of two families connected by an Englishman and a Pakistani man of the middle generation who are best friends, having bonded during World War 2 at the end of the war. The stories are meant to be intertwined, with actions that were thought to be inconsequential at one point, flapping their wings and becoming a hurricane later in the characters' lives. I didn't particularly care for the abruptness of the non-linear story-telling, but, well, honestly, the style worked for this story.
The book is longer than most I read, and less ACTION-PACKED than the ones I read, so it took me a while to read. It was okay. I won't hand it to someone recommending it, but I wouldn't stop anyone from picking it off my shelf to read. I'll likely put it in Andy's little library for someone else to read.