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Lol this did not go where I expected and I loooooove it. It’s so well written, so completely deep into Swenson’s perspective, that you the reader share his tunnel-vision, his blinders, his ego while you judge the events of the book.

Premise: Swenson is a professor of creative writing (don't you love how a woman named Prose writes a prose book about a writer of prose?) at a small, liberal arts college in New England, called Emerson (seems rather like Middlebury College). He’s happily married to the school clinician. They’re somewhat estranged from their freshman college student daughter Ruby, who opted to go to the state school rather than Emerson, and one wonders if that distance doesn’t contribute to his fondness for his student, Angela Argo (considering he has been a professor for decades and was never interested in his students before). Angela is sort of a Lizbeth Salander type� all neon hair and leather jackets and metal studs, but a genius with writing instead of technology. (view spoiler)[Also, a pathological liar. (hide spoiler)]

The thing is, you think for most of the book that the author identifies with Swenson. He’s written so believably, so empathically, that despite the creepiness of a male professor having an affair with a female student, you rationalize his actions the same way he does (even if you aren’t the kind of person who typically rationalizes those kinds of actions). And you’d think, for a writer to be able to convince you to do that, they must also feel as Swenson does.

But you’d be wrong. That empathy that makes Swenson so believable and compelling as a character is paired with sweet derision and an utter rejection of his entire worldview.

And that's what makes a great character, really: an unholy storm of the author's empathy plus deep honest scorn.