I read this for book club and I wouldn’t have picked it, but I really liked it so I can’t say why. I’ve read What Alice Forgot and 9 Perfect StrangersI read this for book club and I wouldn’t have picked it, but I really liked it so I can’t say why. I’ve read What Alice Forgot and 9 Perfect Strangers and the books usually feel very summery and easy, but this had more and I think the others probably did too and I was hard on them. I loved this one. Every character. The plot was so involved and the narrative device and narrator switches were art. ...more
I’m from Missouri. I loved to see my brain reinvent and revisit the Hannibal I know, the caves from field trips, the island, the geography.
Some of thiI’m from Missouri. I loved to see my brain reinvent and revisit the Hannibal I know, the caves from field trips, the island, the geography.
Some of this book broke my heart. Other perts felt too simplified, BUT I loved it all. i wanted it to be the story, the deeper story, because everyone had goodness, or evil, and worked anachronistically. It took on atrocities and made them something to analyze and keep walking. ...more
I was thinking of this book the other day and realized I forgot to record it as read. It was unexpectedly unique and mind-bending. I knew nothing abouI was thinking of this book the other day and realized I forgot to record it as read. It was unexpectedly unique and mind-bending. I knew nothing about it and it registered as an Agatha Christie for about half, but then it becomes more Matrix-like and you wonder how you got here and who’s running things. I couldn’t have solved it for anything....more
Fine. Fun, weird at times and a little white knuckle at the end to tie up the mystery. It get’s frustrating it’s all about keeping you hooked and clueFine. Fun, weird at times and a little white knuckle at the end to tie up the mystery. It get’s frustrating it’s all about keeping you hooked and clueless....more
I think I might have started this one years ago but not finished. I love the way Atkinson writes. The plots are good enough but the houses, the sound I think I might have started this one years ago but not finished. I love the way Atkinson writes. The plots are good enough but the houses, the sound of a dog’s too long nails on scarred wooden floors, the way you feel the summer staleness or the relief of a cool midnight, lonesome through a fluttering curtain.
They’re just perfect.
The mysteries were adequate, but not stupendous. The character development is the story. Nothing like the powerhouse of Life After Life, but still very good....more
I loved being here, in 1957, with Jean and her mother, wanting more, but having just enough. I am all too familiar with Jean’s proclivities for thinkiI loved being here, in 1957, with Jean and her mother, wanting more, but having just enough. I am all too familiar with Jean’s proclivities for thinking of others so much more than herself but finding her best parts when she sees herself in others. It hot a little long, and the mystery less mysterious, but enjoyable if not just slightly disappointing. A charmingly portrayed world with some sad, sweetly poignant parts and shrewd moments of humanity and human recognition....more
There were many things about this book I enjoyed, but ultimately I don't think any of those things were enough to make the story itself something I waThere were many things about this book I enjoyed, but ultimately I don't think any of those things were enough to make the story itself something I was interested in. I love a good spy, and I appreciated and chuckled, even thought about while not reading, the voice of the protagonist. I underlined a few of her observations--that tinned fish is like cat food, that her relationships with men are vehicles, her body is part of her work and that with every job she does her sense of self is more and more diminished.
She was compelling, certainly. Her alcoholism and desire for ragged, rough and nearly violent sex, her abilities--but in the end, I was ready to finish the book and it felt a little like a slog, despite all the potential for a real story to unfold. It felt like a very long character study on a single character with some cool concepts on society and solitude, cults and hierarchy. I even looked up the Cagot and got into that, too. I'm glad to know about it, but nothing felt woven together in the way I wanted it to go--nothing was tied up. That said, I do see this got some high reviews and it makes me feel like I some how missed the point of the whole thing, but I'm not sure you how I could do that for an entire book. I have read books before--quite a few, and they usually make a more clear cut story to follow.
I would have stayed for the Isle of Amberly. I have gotten too wise to Feeny’s tricks—I immediately clocked timelines, point of view switches, name deI would have stayed for the Isle of Amberly. I have gotten too wise to Feeny’s tricks—I immediately clocked timelines, point of view switches, name derivatives/potential aliases and pronoun use—nobody is ever what they say they are in these books.
They’re impossible to down but just as unlikely to solve: too intentionally tricky.
But I do love them and the escape they provide. ...more
I’d lump this one in with Emma Klein’s The Guest and Lottie Hazell’s Piglet, and I suppose Nightbitch—which is interesting because I loved some (in thI’d lump this one in with Emma Klein’s The Guest and Lottie Hazell’s Piglet, and I suppose Nightbitch—which is interesting because I loved some (in the moment) far more than the other (Piglet more than The Guest, MYoRaR more than both and Nightbitch as an idea but not much at all beyond the first 2/3s).
In hindsight, I’d call the first three masterpieces in what they are, how they get there and the authors� ability to conceive of where they’re going: the amount of feminine veil shifting they accomplish is astounding—if only more people were inclined to bother taking the peek.
My mother once called Sylvia Plath’s writing “like being stuck inside someone else’s dirty diaper.� She ment this as a criticism, but really it’s Plath (and most confessional writers�) intention, and the need: to make women more dimensional, to show what’s behind the curtain, veil—whatever. Rest assured it will be uncomfortable. The point is for it to be uncomfortable, because it is not the job of women to make you comfortable and to be feminine is decidedly uncomfortable.
So, this book is uncomfortable, but it’s also funny�(laugh out loud so,) and poignant. Our narrator is a gorgeous mess—a glamorous, privileged (family money at the loss of imperfect family,) effortless size 2 who looks like Amber Valetta and Charlize Theron even when consuming 2 bodega coffees and long-expired ice creams plus Ativan and A CATALOG OF Harrison Ford and Whoopi Goldberg VHS tapes. She comes from a miserable, equally beautiful icy blonde (who looks like Lee Miller and allows her daughter to sleep in her bed because crossing the hall to wake her is too much effort), and has one friend in the world: a bulimic workout queen named Reeva who exhaustively, unrequitedly loves and envies her—and will never measure up.
Moshfegh stands out because she dares to be personal with not only her unnamed narrator, but multiple female characters: Reeva, and the mother, and even Dr. Tuttle felt faceted, though less so (but very necessary. We’ve all had the therapist that can’t remember what we said about our trauma origins but clearly remembers their cancelation policy). This is a book about female relationships—how good, and cruel, relentless and loving women can be to each other and themselves (and as such, I would not put All Fours in this category).
This book was something I couldn’t put down. The empowerment of being a female dirt bag, and also what it really means to have it all—what that means for the other women in your life, and exactly all the ways a complicated woman can be everything she might wish to could be. Moshfegh plays on ideas of beauty—what it gets you, what it doesn’t, and the competitive spirit of women. I will also say the author makes for a beautiful conclusion...more
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