The Constant Rabbit

Abandoned, p.40. Didn't even make it to a-hundred-minus-my-age. What I love about Fforde's previous books is the gradual discovery of new worlds: Fforde gives us a quirky twist on reality but writes from the perspective of an insider, one who takes that world for granted. The reader has time to wonder about this universe, and the author gradually fills in details, often just out of the corner of the eye so more questions remain.

Constant Rabbit — at least up to page 40 — has none of that. We are spoon-fed the quirk (“Something handwavy happened. Rabbits are now human-sized, can speak English and otherwise fully participate in human society”) and the plot (“Do they deserve any rights?”) and a heavyhanded story comprising a lot of bullies and one spineless milquetoast narrator. The reader (at least this reader) feels no curiosity about the details of this mean-spirited world, about what interesting discoveries await. My sense so far is that Fforde disapproves of xenophobia and wants to make sure the reader is aware of it... On. Every. Page. I kind of get it: there's an increasing number of people who might need to be reminded that nazis are bad, but unfortunately (1) those people don't read, and (2) the rest of us don't need to be conked on the head quite so much.