Three abandoned books

This year I’ve already not finished three books.

1. Hawkwood by James McGee. The titular Bow Street Runner was not the Regency James Bond as advertised. In fact, this mystery was full of stupid. Especially the women.
2. Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. I hate it when a novel is actually a collection of prose poems, don’t you?
3. The Unconsoled by Kazuo Ishiguro. In a series of puzzling encounters, the pianist Ryder is trying to figure out what is expected of him for the Thursday night performance. At least by page 123, he hadn’t figured it out yet. (Why he didn’t stop just someone and say, “Hey, what’s up with Thursday?” is beyond my ken.)

So now I’m rereading The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco for consolation after The Unconsoled.