Sexing the Cherry. Third book by Jeanette Winterson that I have to read. I *hate* the woman.
I love postmodern stuff, I like pastiche, I like allusiveness... I like pretty much everything that Winterson does but I hate the superficial, insincere, snobbish way in which Winterson does it.
Esp. Gut Symmetries is a huge, transgalactic, would-be-transcendental pile of pretentious blah. I gotta admit she's really good with English, her style is at times quite exquisite. Pity she doesn't have anything to tell.
I just hope I'll be done with her soon, so that I can move on to something that's actually worth reading...