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Jun 20, 2020Indoorcamping rated this title 2.5 out of 5 stars
The writing is really good but OMG NO! This is the third novel in a row written by young, super-talented women and by far the worst. It could be me, though. When you read non-fiction for a few decades and decide, hey why not? Fiction is a thing, so let’s go. Starting with Conversations With Friends by Sally Rooney, I thought I was an idiot for not reading fiction, and especially not reading the books with the most buzz. I loved it and thought, okay, let’s try another one. Next, I read Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. I liked this one even better than the Rooney one - just a beautifully structured plot, brilliant writing, lots of delicious humor, and really lovable-like-family original characters. I didn’t care that some of it was a little pushed. It was just adorable and I didn’t want to read anything else after a while because I wanted to have those characters in my head for a few days more. Now this. I felt like I was dropped into a college class consisting of trust fund kids, entitled white girls who feel like they’ve had hardships that are worth writing about and nobody stops them because they have all the money and the good looks and fill up the room with their self-absorption. I tried hard to read it all the way through to the end but I admit I had to rush through the last third because I was just getting angry. I want to slap this author. What a beautiful talent and what a stupid book. She’s got a memoir out, which, disregarding what I just wrote, I actually look forward to reading. Maybe this format will work for her terrific writing skills. And there is some real hurt that maybe she can put on paper in a beautiful way. That’s what I want to read. And, more than anything, maybe reading her new memoir will erase the images I have in my head still of fictional drunk, entitled white people that have the luxury of not reaping the consequences of their self-absorbed behavior.