He's able to occupy a girl/woman's psyche as seamlessly as a man's and he shines when he's occupying interior spaces: "she had grown attached to it with the obstinacy with which people become attached only to things that hurt them." The lead characters battle with anorexia and cutting-very current, almost hip post-modern symptoms.īut where was the denouement, or the arc? The lack of completion of myriad thoughts and plot devices (SPOILER ALERT), i.e. Each painstakingly set-up scenario of adolescent and adult angst/trauma is left dangling like a series of complicated esher drawings that lead nowhere and are partially erased. I want to love this novel, it's unusual, bleak, as real and demanding as gum stuck to your shoe, but there is no payoff for my time spent with it.
I finished this book moments ago and find myself irritated instead of thoughtful.
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