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3.58 AVERAGE
3.58 AVERAGE
As with all of Eggers works, 50% genius, 50% crap, sometimes in the same sentence.
Ugh, this book was so hyped up. It gave me such a headache, that I actually threw it across the room and shouted "done" halfway through.
this is a memoir i read for one of my book clubs. my favorite thing about it was that it was set in sf. now that i live here, i like to read about sf. besides that, i liked reading about this 20 year old who is stuck caring for his young brother after his parents both die of cancer. the way he stepped up and took responsibility... quite a change from the last book club book, where she spent her whole time being completely irresponsible and preachy.
A good read that is sometimes sad, sometimes funny, and sometimes poignant. The self-congratulatory ironic ethos of the author can get to be a little much, but that captures the Gen X crowd to a T, no?
It was strange in spots, but beautiful in others; however, the book is worth a read.
I remember liking this book better when I read it the first time, not long after it was published. Maybe I'm too old, or too far removed from the mid-90s now. It felt dated to me, and I ran out of patience with the self-referential self-consciousness.
This book drags and is very self-indulgent. No me gusta.
I get that it's supposed to be a tongue and cheek meta analysis of what a self absorbed douche Eggers is, but I got it. You wanted to be on The Real World and now you're embarrassed your friends saw your want something so you're making fun of yourself to save face. I still fucking hate you. If you really want to show some growth write about something other than you notes to your fucking therapist, jfc
this book started out well. it was clever, entertaining, and poignant at times. but after 300 pages of cringing cleverness and stream of consciousness... I just had to stop. sorry, folks. this one is just not for me!