First of all, the narrator sounded like he should be doing tv infomercials for reusable paper towels. Second, the story should be very interesting ( I am a history buff) but strangely it isn't. Perhaps it was the need to constantly refer to the painting at issue during (especially) the beginning of the book; the inability to see what the author was talking about. The first quarter of the book seemed to be a description of the artwork; the second quarter was a general history of the artwork up to the first world war, the third quarter was about the theft of the panels in the 30's and the last part was about its rescue from the Nazis in WWII.
Some of the symbols were discussed, but not the mystic symbolism, other than the obvious. Even the parts which could have been exciting and suspenseful were not written to keep one's interest.
I wanted to like it, and I did learn a bit but was irritated the whole time. Perhaps it was the narrator -- listen first and decide if you can listen to hours of the guy.
This was a good read; I like short stories, and these were very evocative. I especially liked the connected short stories. The narrators all did an excellent job. The subject matter is intriguing; relationships mostly, and poignant and funny at the same time.
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