It is well known that I am a keen reader, book worm if you want to say it. I read almost everything that has letters on it from novels to labels on the beer bottles.
Some styles are closer to my heart than others... One that usually is not my favourite is the autobiographical one. I got bored by so many autobiographical novels plus in this invasion of nobodies autobiographies written by somebody else on the market my eyes developed a rejection reaction to the style.
Now I was thinking of two autobiographical novels that I really loved... Ernesto Sabato's Antes del fin and Andreï Makine Dreams of my Russian Summers.