Thing is, I didn't look too carefully at the cover and had I, I probably wouldn't have read it, because I am not a big fan of Janis Joplinesque, hippie glasses and long hair and all of that sort. I don't know why. I am just not. Also I am a big fan of judging a book by its cover, though I know that has hurt me in the past. Freak the Mighty, Hatchet, yes it has happened a LOT. But in this case, had a judged the book by its cover and passed, I would not be any worse off. Not that The Girls was bad. It just wasn't my thing. I think I just get bored of whiny middle age, unmarried women lamenting their loneliness. It's all too At Seventeen for me. Which just makes my stomach turn. But the nauseating self-pity of the grown-up Evie was just way too much for me. Gimme a break. First World Problem for sure. I'm not talking about Evie's hook up with a cult as being a First World Problem. Wait a minute-- it probably is, isn't it? I mean, we get hooked up with cults and the like because of low self-esteem. And in Third World countries, who has time for thoughts of self-esteem. I am not big on "too blessed to be depressed" because I know depression is real and mental illness is real, but this gal just seems to have a case of the blahs. If she had more than that, I am sorry. I am. But then, even as an adult, to still be thinking about her "pimpled face" as a teen and her "too thick thighs" as an adult? Really? Really? Maybe start thinking about someone else other than yourself.
It was hard to like Evie at all. This was very Ice Storm-ish, and maybe that is just a reflection of the decade? But yeah, this was not for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment