9/10 for prose, feels like a Kodak in book form, with that said:
I fear i need a man to explain to me the male perspective that's here, because what do you mean.
I have many a non sequitur thought, but boils down to feeling so aimless (to a frustrating degree) that i fear i don't understand the point:
- as mentioned, Kodak film if it was a book - there's the constant reiteration that you never truly know another person - I don't really care about the girls, and don't understand why they're worth obsessing over (or is it just being tragic figures that were/are unattainable). to that, why is this whole group of boys so obsessed with people so unknown to them - i don't care for the narration choice of these (now middle-aged) men thinking about them decades later (why does it seems like these men haven't developed/moved past it? it's not about them). it doesn't read as "hauntingly beautiful" or whatever. ambiguity/not knowing doesn't make it better/more deep?? the girls died and now it's about these random men's feelings & projections, great
Like sure there's nuances and other symbolism I've left untouched (namely, the tragedy of the sisters, and the "baggage", so to speak, of those remaining), but my reaction continues to be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
tldr: i think I'm too much of a substance reader vs a vibe reader
Contains spoilers
Something for this didn't fully click with me. I understand the broader attempt at being uplifting and motivational, and the general feel-good aspect to it.
I balk at the premise that depression is a direct result from the choices you make in life, and that it's simply an attitude adjustment to fix, or that in the process of making better choices, it would be resolved. Or that the final notion of “life is wonderful, appreciate what you have, isn’t life beautiful and messy and amazing” will single-handedly solve it in any way. (Sidebar: Should we romanticize life more? Yes.)
It is also not the culmination of regretful choices.
It is a nice nod to the fact that grass is typically never greener on the other side, but i recognize that i am more than likely not the target demographic for this book, who would gain an appreciation from it, and would find this helpful/properly uplifting.
Didn't have issues with sleeping at night when reading things like In Cold Blood, I'll Be Gone in the Dark, or even about Ted Bundy. I've read my fair share of realistic creepy/gruesome/scary, so fairly hard to shock me with some grittiness or shock value descriptions.
That said, I had to start skipping quite a few scenes to be able to continue sleeping at night. I found the execution of the graphic violence/descriptions in this to be more than most true crime books, and based on my very limited experience, would make Criminal Minds seem like a Rated E for Everyone kind of show.
For me, the violence and gore got to be too much, I hesitate to call it glorified but tho it's a realistic boogyman, I don't think I'll read much more of her work, if this one is anything to go by. Pretty sure I'm terrified of her now
An interesting premise, I truly did enjoy the entire first half. Once we hit the second half, I always felt like something was missing and that being able to identify that thing was on the tip of my tongue but not quite there. I don't necessarily think worth a re-read for me, but i did like it well enough
Second half was hands down better than the first
Also, how is she a scientist studying abiogenesis AND food science? Those are completely separate disciplines and people can spend decades studying just one
Didn't love the continuous bashing over the head that 2020s ideals & norms are better than the ones from the ‘50s. Started off fairly weak but after the 50% mark definitely got better & with less “let's pile as many bad things as possible”
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Two quotes that pulled me out of the book SO fast & I can tell you they don't make much more sense in context of the book
* “But instead,” she continued, “women are at home, making babies and cleaning rugs. It's legalized slavery.” (p. 26)
* “A woman telling me what pregnancy is. Who do you think you are?” (p. 113)