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**2.5 stars**

It is a perfect example of very poignant storytelling that aims at being meditative but falls short due to meandering. Intimacy was adapted into a 2001 movie starring Mark Rylance, which shares a similar melancholic, desolate tonality, which I have seen and thought to be the story of this novel. However, it feels like the movie is a sequel to the book. The plot concerns the thought process of an author, who is predictably going through a midlife crisis on the eve of his leaving his 10-year-old family.

So, of course, this novel is not at all for everyone. However, I did not find it as impactful as I would have liked because the narrative is morbidly sluggish. That would not have been a problem if the author ventured deeper into the narrator's brain. But that also seems unjust to ask of him because, well, it is all about the day before he leaves his wife and children. And a man could not possibly feel anything more than 250 pages within that time because (if we quote our favourite Ronald Weasley) "he will explode" if he does so.

My only wish is that I never become like this guy. This novel demands appreciation for being such a microscopic introspective on a relatable character, and I can not seriously find any other fault with it. So I don't understand why I am so harsh with the rating?

Feeling very confused, to be honest. Probably this is just the wrong book at the wrong time.