NYRB Classics collector. Reads anything, so long as it's good. Sometimes historian. Frequently grumpy: you've been warned. Also at aliceunderskies.tumblr.com.
I grabbed this from my bookstore job because I liked the title and cover. I vaguely suspected it would be shmaltzy. Which it was, sort of, but I ended up liking it anyway. It reminded me naggingly of Jonathan Safran Foer's work, and I was not surprised to find the two authors are married: they share a set of very similar themes and even storylines. Of the two, Krauss impresses me more. She is less precious, more heart-ful than her spouse. Points lost for child characters who strain credibility, but more than making up for them with a fantastic old man. (Old people > children in books for me these days.)