Just finished Nick Hornby's Long Way Down. Wow. Yikes. I knew from reading his Fever Pitch that Hornby has battled depression in the past (being depressed and an Arsenal fan go hand in hand), but wow, to mine those experiences so to bend them and shape them for such a potent work of fiction... yeah that takes some courage and honesty- and literary talent to make it so damned entertaining. And dare I call it profound? Yes, I will call it profound. Four individuals coincidentally make each other's acquaintance on New Year's Eve on a rooftop in London to do away with themselves but don't do away with themselves and instead choose life such as it is... but with NO BULLSHIT. No trite emotional hargle bargle or tidy happy endings. Hornby is too good for that. Hell Hornby even takes time to comment on our inculcated expectations for tidy happy endings. Oh you get a happy ending more or less in the end, but it's honest, real. And not sappy in the fucking least.
You have to love Nick Hornby.
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