The real shining piece of this book is the ghost and the setting. The whole world of the opera house comes alive as the ghost wrecks havoc and extracts vengeance. This is a review of Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera (Le Fantôme de l’Opéra).
I’ve never really been one for poetry when it comes down to it. Occasionally there are exceptions to this rule. I enjoy Pushkin and Tennyson, but it’s rare that verses move me the way that novels do. This is a review of The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge.