Kelsey
As someone who adores delightfully detestable characters, I was absolutely tickled senseless by this book. It was a bit of a slog, I'll admit, but my god it was worth it.
How someone could ever endeavor to even attempt writing a synopsis of this book, I'll never know. (Obviously, they've done it... it just sucks.) I felt at once immersed in and repulsed by the Lamberts' lives. Then I realized upon reflection that the story essentially mirrors my very own existence. I did not ask to be put into this world; I'm often repulsed by my behavior; I occasionally redeem myself; I continue to correct when possible; I often fail; the cycle continues ad nauseam, the plot, at times, thickens and thins; and eventually I will simply cease to exist (though I would like to avoid Alfred's fate, if at all possible).
All that cryptic, useless philosophizing is simply to say: I think it was a book about how being a self-aware human is really fucking hard.
From the moment you become conscious, other humans start expecting things from you. Inevitably, those things will come into conflict with other influences: your own worldviews, the expectations of people outside of your nuclear family, the standards of your society and community. Over time, sometimes little by little and sometimes all at once, you make decisions about what to sacrifice. Do you give up something of yourself to meet the expectations of others? Do you disappoint others so that you can keep yourself intact?
Then after a while, you may wake up one day (like Enid) and realize you're desperately unhappy and you need to correct some of the decisions you've made. Maybe you've lost yourself trying to please everyone else. Or maybe (like Denise) you've lost yourself in yourself, and you finally see how your behavior is affecting others.
I don't know, that's just my take. It was a really fucking good book.
So, now what? Well. Despite the shameful accumulation of backlogged books gathering dust on the untouched piano in my bedroom, I will now proceed to order every other novel Jonathan Franzen has ever written.
As someone who adores delightfully detestable characters, I was absolutely tickled senseless by this book. It was a bit of a slog, I'll admit, but my god it was worth it.
How someone could ever endeavor to even attempt writing a synopsis of this book, I'll never know. (Obviously, they've done it... it just sucks.) I felt at once immersed in and repulsed by the Lamberts' lives. Then I realized upon reflection that the story essentially mirrors my very own existence. I did not ask to be put into this world; I'm often repulsed by my behavior; I occasionally redeem myself; I continue to correct when possible; I often fail; the cycle continues ad nauseam, the plot, at times, thickens and thins; and eventually I will simply cease to exist (though I would like to avoid Alfred's fate, if at all possible).
All that cryptic, useless philosophizing is simply to say: I think it was a book about how being a self-aware human is really fucking hard.
From the moment you become conscious, other humans start expecting things from you. Inevitably, those things will come into conflict with other influences: your own worldviews, the expectations of people outside of your nuclear family, the standards of your society and community. Over time, sometimes little by little and sometimes all at once, you make decisions about what to sacrifice. Do you give up something of yourself to meet the expectations of others? Do you disappoint others so that you can keep yourself intact?
Then after a while, you may wake up one day (like Enid) and realize you're desperately unhappy and you need to correct some of the decisions you've made. Maybe you've lost yourself trying to please everyone else. Or maybe (like Denise) you've lost yourself in yourself, and you finally see how your behavior is affecting others.
I don't know, that's just my take. It was a really fucking good book.
So, now what? Well. Despite the shameful accumulation of backlogged books gathering dust on the untouched piano in my bedroom, I will now proceed to order every other novel Jonathan Franzen has ever written.