Lawrence's Reviews > The Elegance of the Hedgehog

This was an extraordinarily disappointing book. It had an excellent concept. Two persons with superior native intelligence (a concierge and a girl) live hidden lives in the same upper class apartment house and approach the problem of meaning in different ways. The idea that they will eventually discover each other was exciting. The catalyst of a third highly intelligent person added to the anticipation. And then --- voila' --- nothing. Rien, mesdames et messieurs. The author doesn't seem to be a story teller at all. After presenting the conceit, the book ends in a rush and falls entirely flat.

There's a lot of truly enjoyable "intellectual" window dressing. I loved that part. Really. But there was actually no real narrative. I always find that it's really irritating when there's a lack of story or when the author fishes around for a story in front of my very eyes as I'm reading the very book that's already in print. I think of the Poisonwood Bible which was another book of conceits, in my humble opinion, and which the author simply could not figure out how to end.

Some who didn't like this book thought that the concierge and the girl were mean and snobbish. I don't think so: It was their point of view influenced by their positions in life, as limited as they were. And I suppose it was satirical --- on the author's part.

P.s. Recently, at a wine bar, I talked with a person who loved this book. When she heard I disliked it, she immediately said, "It was the ending, right?" Her impression is that this is the way life is and these endings occur all the time. Well, that's true, but the conceit of this book --- a book, not life --- deserved better.