The Oven House by Lynne Rees was in turns exquisitely delightful and decadently painful to read... much in the same way as an ice cold treat on a hot summer day will give you sweet pleasure, swiftly followed by brain freeze.
Is it obvious that I am really struggling to describe the effect it had on me? Please don't let my review put you off as that is not my intent. I am actually still a little overwhelmed by how very well written this story was. It isn't an easy topic to base a short story on let alone a whole novella.
The Oven House is filled with the ripe pleasure of sexual indulgence, of the particular agonies that are irrevocably linked to both falling in and out of love and the uniquely lush joy that comes from falling in love with someone all over again.
The Oven House is vividly written. The words moved off the page and into my very core. They are rich and inviting, emotive, magical in their strength and self assurance. You won't just read this book, you'll feel, taste, see, smell and be moved by it.
Why do I do these things to myself?
2 weeks ago