It has been a long time since I looked forward to bedtime because I wanted to read. Usually I begin to read because I know it is good for me and then I end up enjoying it. The Help, by first time novelist Kathryn Stockett proved to be one of those books. It wasn't the beautiful word pictures or the fascinating thoughts on human nature which usually appeal to me, but rather the realism of the voices that carry the narrative of the challenge of the social structure of house "help" in Mississippi in 1962.
It was also quite fun to find that several of my friends were also reading the book- a phenomenon that rarely happens for whatever reason due to my usual reading choices.
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