Just finished reading An Instance of the Fingerpost.
The critics who heralded it as equal to (or they daresay surpassing) The Name of the Rose, were terribly and horribly amiss.
The review on Salon.com said it all -
'Don't be surprised if midway through this sprawling and seemingly endless tome, however, you feel like suing the publishers (and certain critics) for fraud. If this book is a thriller, then I'm Edgar Allan Poe.'
I will not be reading The Dream of Scipio...
