Currently by my bed are a clutch of books most of which arrived as part of a 'mystery selection' from a book club:
Iain Banks: The Business - took me a while to get into but am now enjoying just because the premise is so unusual, I can identify with the corporate-warrior heroine and I like the humour.
Carol Shields: Unless. So well-written and thoughtful, so interesting on the experience of motherhood, but wanly sad and made all the more so by knowing that Shields died of breast cancer not long after completing it.
Hugh Cunningham: The Invention of Childhood: - a little disappointing but interesting to dip into (the book was serialised on Radio 4).
Ian McEwan: Atonement. Too scared even to start it.
I feel a bit embarrassed to admit this, but my problem is that as I get older I find it less and less easy to cope with tragedy or even sadness in literature, particularly if it's unresolved. Despite being both very happy and lucky personally, middle age (is 43 middle aged?) has brought with it a profound sense of just how disappointing, dreary and downright ghastly life could be and I don't want to read about it. I do however still want to read well-written, challenging and interesting books; just ones with happy endings or at least ones that don't actively make me sad. At this rate I'll be on an unrelieved diet of 1990s Chicklit, David Lodge and Georgette Heyer by the time I'm 60. Bink, Marina et al: Any suggestions for books that will engage and uplift me but I won't have to hide behind a copy of The Economist on the train?