Sandwich Joe
In the novel, the narrator is simultaneously bored and overwhelmed with the world around her, and so she decides to hibernate for a year. In one respect, I understand her. I relate to her desire to sleep (or, really, die without dying). She writes, “I was plagued with misery, anxiety, and a wish to escape the prison of my mind and body,” and this is a feeling with which I'm well acquainted.
However, the narrator is profoundly unlikable. She has seemingly everything going for her: her beauty effortless, her pockets deep, yet her greatest desire in life is to withdraw. She is solipsistic and spoiled, someone who spends pages and pages focusing on her own self-care with a small mention of 9/11 (the event that kills her only friend!) at the end.
At one point, the narrator is talking to this ‘friend,' Reva. She says, “But why do you care? It's not a contest.” To which Reva responds, “Yes, it is. You just can't see it because you've always been the winner.”
While I enjoyed the novel and appreciated its complexities and dark humor, I do feel as if it drags a bit towards the end and often returns to the comfort of what it has already established. That said, I will probably be thinking about this book for a very long time.
In the novel, the narrator is simultaneously bored and overwhelmed with the world around her, and so she decides to hibernate for a year. In one respect, I understand her. I relate to her desire to sleep (or, really, die without dying). She writes, “I was plagued with misery, anxiety, and a wish to escape the prison of my mind and body,” and this is a feeling with which I'm well acquainted.
However, the narrator is profoundly unlikable. She has seemingly everything going for her: her beauty effortless, her pockets deep, yet her greatest desire in life is to withdraw. She is solipsistic and spoiled, someone who spends pages and pages focusing on her own self-care with a small mention of 9/11 (the event that kills her only friend!) at the end.
At one point, the narrator is talking to this ‘friend,' Reva. She says, “But why do you care? It's not a contest.” To which Reva responds, “Yes, it is. You just can't see it because you've always been the winner.”
While I enjoyed the novel and appreciated its complexities and dark humor, I do feel as if it drags a bit towards the end and often returns to the comfort of what it has already established. That said, I will probably be thinking about this book for a very long time.