Last weekend I read The History of Love by Nicole Krauss. The author is my age (30), which is depressing because I don't think I have an intergenerational story in me, even a bad one. This one is pretty good -- I always wonder if an author has a specific ending in mind, or takes a premise and lets it lead her to one of many possible conclusions.
Like her husband, Jonathan Safran Foer, Ms. Krauss peppers her New York story with children of advanced intelligence and a spiritual bent in a wise-beyond-their-years approach. Realistic or not, this depiction of children creates an ideal situation where characters of all ages can connect as equals, stripping them bare of their social norms and matching them up by a common emotional need. (It actually reads a lot more pleasantly than that.)
Next up: I'm already halfway through Freakonomics.
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