Alexander
part semi-sequel. part autofiction. part huh????? the disjointed method of telling this story didn't really work, even with me knowing that it was always gonna bring itself back together eventually. i enjoyed every individual section, for as brief as they were, but the most interesting part of the book didn't come until the last third and makes me wonder how great this could've been if that was the main focus all along.
wow. i don't remember the last time i read a book that existed so perfectly within itself. every ugly character complimented their disgusting world. perfect pacing. ugh. i could gush about this book forever. enjoy your victory lap, moshfegh.
millennial new adult novels are a dime a dozen these days, so i'm excited when i read one that can still feel special. each of the “linked stories” between the two protagonists are fascinating and the non-linear technique of sharing them kept the book from feeling like it could go down any particular predictable path.
i'm not well versed in greek mythology, but this was still very enjoyable, very quick, ended very strong, and i'm excited to keep going.
feel like i read the novelization of a movie rather than a full novel that might later be trimmed to fit the two hour run time of a movie. a decent read, but where was the part that was supposed to make me give a shit about anything that was going on?
i never really read thrillers. can someone tell me if the characters are always this unlikeable or if it's just this book? that said, i really enjoyed the ride with all its juicy drama and twists and turns (even if i knew what was around the corner 95% of the time).
Saw this pop up on my feed and thought “Oh yeah, I read that when it came out!” Maybe I'll revisit it soon since I do remember enjoying it.
My favorite type of book (dramatic, exciting, character-driven, multi-perspective narrative) done my favorite type of way (extremely well).
a really entertaining collection of short stories that have all already entirely left my mind and will never ever be remembered
an exceptionally written story that doesn't always fit its format. i feel like i'll remember the parts that turned my stomach more than anything.
Saved itself a little at the end, but what an otherwise incredibly forgettable read.
the few stories i enjoyed in no way make up for the random ramblings that occupy the entirety of the book. i can get a book about nothing, but i spent so much of the time reading this begging for something. this book has an audience that'll love it, but i'm entirely not that audience. though it did help me feel like i understand why people hate the hbo show girls. only kept with it because i was reading it with a friend.
it's a testament to ferris' writing that such an unremarkable premise (the front to back life story of some guy) could still be so captivating. my biggest qualm is that the last quarter or so of this book is TOO good. so much so that it kind of overshadows the rest of the book and i worry i won't remember much that happened outside of it.
Could definitely see this being a 4 or 5 star read for a lot of people, but I read it too closely to another book with an extremely similar premise and kept finding myself losing interest for that reason. Beautiful writing though.
blurring the line between “thought-provoking” and “confusing and convoluted”. would've hated the aimlessness of it all if it wasn't so interesting in spite of itself.
As someone who also works with extremely dangerous and deadly animals (my two house cats), this memoir really resonated with me.
There are many other talented and charming physicists whose version of this information I wish I had read instead.
