It was a good day for dreaming. It was late in the afternoon, the sun finally breaking through the thick clouds and enveloping the city with its sweet warmth. The late-autumn air had a smooth hypnotic effect, combining with the fact that it was Friday afternoon, I started to feel lightheaded. To avoid the awkwardness of actually dozing off in the office, I entertained myself by flavoring the story I’d just finished---The Thirteen Tale, by Diane Satterfield.

Every book, for me, has its different flavour, sweet, spicy, bitter or salty. Either you like it or you hate it.  However, it's different with this story. It's not easy to tell which taste it is---because it is not just one thing, but different flavors mixed together.

The beginning of the story is like Grapewine. As if gulping down good wine, when I laid my eyes on the first page, the scent had exploded on my taste buds, sour and sweet all at the same time. At the beginning, Diane presented us with a puzzle: What’s the secret of Vida Winter? Wow, and the words, the words are powerful, fresh and gripping. I always thought words are more important than the story. A poor story, if told in proper way, with right words, could still be interesting. On the contrary, a good story would go pale, sicken even die without proper words.

In expert words, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. The letter from Vida Winter definitely had such magical power. Gripping suspense with powerful words, this book caught my eyes almost immediately. Therefore I left a message in my mini-blog: If there is a book I would love to read twice, it definitely is The Thirteenth Tale.

However, it was different when coming to the Middle. I was not even sure I still like it. Salty, bitter, sour, spicy all tumbled together. The tone of the story has become too dark and twisting for my taste. George Angelfield died in such a cruel way, and the death of Charlie was even more unbearable. Although I had no feelings for those two, I had to skip many words about the details of their tragic ending.  However, I was still held captive by the words. Besides that, Diane kept throwing me puzzles, one after another. Who is the father of the twins? What happened to Hester? What’s the meaning of the Girl in the Mist? Who killed John? How could a wild kid grown up to be a world known writer? I felt like getting complete lost in a giant maze. Sometime I thought I’d found my way out, but it turned out to be just another way leading to more puzzles.

The ending, thankfully was satisfactory. The answer to all those puzzles was unexpected but still reasonable. It was not a happy-for-ever kind of ending. It tastes bitter and spicy, but leaving a lasting and pleasant aftertaste. Puzzles solved, I was finally set free. I am not sure I would soon re-read this story, but eventually I know I would. For now, perhaps I should go back to those snack foods---Romantic story, sweet enough but nothing left afterwards---Perfectly for time-killing