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Ken Follett is a cheap fiction author, and hist writing illustrates that. He sets down to write a novel about cathedral building in the middle-ages and ends up writing an interesting manuscript on love (and that ridiculous human practice, monogamy), religion, malice, treachery, and triumph. The book was predictable in a substantial way, but we enjoyed the plot, and it seemed to pass by much quicker than its size would suggest.
Quick vote: Did we like this book? Yes. Would we recommend it to our loyal readers? We're not sure. If you're stuck in a rainstorm and this book is the only decent one available, go for it, it was a fun read. But it was by no means a lyrical masterpiece. We give it a C.
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