I say: I had very high hopes for this and was so unbelievably let down; I can’t even know what to say.
Actually I can, but I’m going to make it short because there’s nothing positive in here.
Everything about this novel felt so contrived; from the ‘lie detector’ - that she called who then began following her - to her silly little affairs, to her lying to her husband (I think they were married) about being an actress and yet she was never in any plays and he seemingly never picked up on this, to her pretentiously “bourgeois boredom.”
It was all just too much.
And this is without me mentioning her stereotypical portrayal of the Africans in the club, and the artists who had exchanged America for Europe, only to once again return doing nothing.
It was like watching a Stilleben; the characters were so without depth.
And the supposed erotica was a mere meh.
On top of all this I didn’t care for Nin’s stale and hyperbolic writing. Maybe I’ll try another of her books if it falls into my lap, but I won’t be seeking anything out.
So yeah, 1/5 makes this is the worst book of the year.
*This is my eighteenth entry in The Classic Bribe Challenge (which is an additional incentive for me to work on my Classics Challenge that’s been going on for a tad too long).