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claire_s_stories's review against another edition
3.0
The characters were interesting and relatable for a "millennial." At the end, the author writes that she felt that the book found a direction when she read "The Necklace," but once it went in that direction I found the characters were diminished and irrational, and there were way too many handy coincidences.
megancm's review against another edition
4.0
Enjoyed the writing and character development! Not the most exciting plot, but it kept my attention and was quite enjoyable.
suzannetronier's review against another edition
3.0
I was listening to this (read splendidly by David Pittu) and enjoying it and was about half way through when it was due at the library and non-renewable. I would have finished it but didn't love it enough to pick up the book or place another hold, probably because it was light entertaining fluff. I enjoyed the author's voice, but there wasn't much of a story to care about (I assumed it would end in some fashion as the Guy de Maupassant story on which is based). Funny. And sparkling as a fake necklace.
starsal's review against another edition
3.0
The book was . . . mostly OK. It wasn't hilarious. The story wasn't really very remarkable. I kept waiting for things to happen, and then the book ended.
fabricate8's review against another edition
3.0
The three main characters were not necessarily likable people, but I liked the writing style which included lots of humorous descriptions. However, I felt like there was an excess of background information that didn't necessarily contribute to the somewhat madcap plot.
dpower711's review against another edition
2.0
This was very disappointing. Characters not developed or believable or likeable at all. All of Crosley's witty bits sacrificed for a so called plot. The characters mostly let it down but it just wasn't very interesting either.
kalimccullough's review against another edition
5.0
I really, really enjoyed this book. It's expertly woven together about a subject seemingly so small that I truly wondered how the author would accomplish it - and yet here we are. I'll likely reread this again one day, I enjoyed it so much.
ashleyozery's review against another edition
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
dietcokealp's review against another edition
2.0
I am often disappointed when my favorite nonfiction/essay authors try to write fiction and this was no exception. This book is very clever but it is not entertaining. Let me know when the next book of essays comes out-so on it!
miraclecharlie's review against another edition
3.0
Original review available on HereWeAreGoing, here: https://herewearegoing.wordpress.com/2015/11/27/reading-sloane-crosleys-the-clasp-and-a-few-other-reads-in-brief/
Okay, one more time stealing from Mrs. Parker, copping to my “congenital lowness of brow” and confessing: I have never read anything by Guy de Maupassant.
I had also never read anything of Sloane Crosley’s work, although a copy of I Was Told There’d Be Cake populates my massive TBR collection. Ms. Crosley’s [visit her website HERE] The Clasp was brought to my attention by Twitter-pal mentions and recommendations, after hearing of which, I read reviews, all of which talked of Guy de Maupassant’s short story, The Necklace, as if everyone who was anyone and had ever thought to read a book had studied this classic example of short-story writing in college.
Listen dear ones, I only learned the proper pronunciation of Proust in my twenties. Tortured by thugs and personal demons and as unskilled at suicide as I was at coping, I was lucky to be alive that I might leave high school and home at sixteen. I got a GED, played now and then at college, but my declared major from age twelve or so to this exalted pedestal from which I rule at age fifty-four has always been fighting conventional and cultural should do & must be & ought to. Still, nothing would do but that I read The Necklace so I could — like all the smart, with-it, MFA-ed, literary marvels I follow — get the most out of The Clasp.
So, even had I gotten nothing else out of The Clasp, its reading prompted me to make another stop on my eclectic, autodidactic journey. de Maupassant tale of Matilda Loisel’s acquisitiveness and its cost, the ruination and waste of her life due to posing and specious desiring, was told in less than ten pages. The Clasp was rather longer, three-hundred and fifty pages longer, and, perhaps that difference in length explains my ultimate impatience with its main trio, Kezia, Nathaniel, and Victor.
Ten pages of Matilda’s grasping, or, rather, the results of her spoiled, petulant pose one night, were little enough time to spend with a vacuous, unpleasant woman of little insight ad less character. By about a third of the way through The Clasp, the shallow, self-involved yearnings, manipulations, calculations, and machinations of its characters made me antsy, angry, and curious why I was wasting my time reading about these people.
In its favor, it is insightful about these folk. Ms. Crosley writes with wit, style, offering penetrating and often funny observations. It is a fast read. As I said to a friend who began reading along with me, but left the book halfway through in disgust with the shallow folk about whom it was written, “I have trouble reading and caring about people who I suspect, in real life, would likely never see me, or, if they did, would dismiss me as not important enough a person with whom to bother.”
Which is my judgement and my problem. Ms. Crosley is a fine writer, and loads of people have warmly praised the book. They are probably above me on the food (and/or literary) chain as well. I didn’t have a life of privilege, so, reading about those who have had and make such messes of their lives, care so little about anything outside their circle of privileged-self, exhausts and angers me.
Funnily enough, I read this while house-sitting in a home where the people have great privilege but manage to interact with the world, with others who’ve less (like, say, ME) and are kind, down-to-earth folks who engage with others because of the content of their souls, not their bank accounts. As luck would have it, they are also readers, and have a complete Easton Press collection of classic works including The Tales of Guy de Maupassant. Funny world.
Okay, one more time stealing from Mrs. Parker, copping to my “congenital lowness of brow” and confessing: I have never read anything by Guy de Maupassant.
I had also never read anything of Sloane Crosley’s work, although a copy of I Was Told There’d Be Cake populates my massive TBR collection. Ms. Crosley’s [visit her website HERE] The Clasp was brought to my attention by Twitter-pal mentions and recommendations, after hearing of which, I read reviews, all of which talked of Guy de Maupassant’s short story, The Necklace, as if everyone who was anyone and had ever thought to read a book had studied this classic example of short-story writing in college.
Listen dear ones, I only learned the proper pronunciation of Proust in my twenties. Tortured by thugs and personal demons and as unskilled at suicide as I was at coping, I was lucky to be alive that I might leave high school and home at sixteen. I got a GED, played now and then at college, but my declared major from age twelve or so to this exalted pedestal from which I rule at age fifty-four has always been fighting conventional and cultural should do & must be & ought to. Still, nothing would do but that I read The Necklace so I could — like all the smart, with-it, MFA-ed, literary marvels I follow — get the most out of The Clasp.
So, even had I gotten nothing else out of The Clasp, its reading prompted me to make another stop on my eclectic, autodidactic journey. de Maupassant tale of Matilda Loisel’s acquisitiveness and its cost, the ruination and waste of her life due to posing and specious desiring, was told in less than ten pages. The Clasp was rather longer, three-hundred and fifty pages longer, and, perhaps that difference in length explains my ultimate impatience with its main trio, Kezia, Nathaniel, and Victor.
Ten pages of Matilda’s grasping, or, rather, the results of her spoiled, petulant pose one night, were little enough time to spend with a vacuous, unpleasant woman of little insight ad less character. By about a third of the way through The Clasp, the shallow, self-involved yearnings, manipulations, calculations, and machinations of its characters made me antsy, angry, and curious why I was wasting my time reading about these people.
In its favor, it is insightful about these folk. Ms. Crosley writes with wit, style, offering penetrating and often funny observations. It is a fast read. As I said to a friend who began reading along with me, but left the book halfway through in disgust with the shallow folk about whom it was written, “I have trouble reading and caring about people who I suspect, in real life, would likely never see me, or, if they did, would dismiss me as not important enough a person with whom to bother.”
Which is my judgement and my problem. Ms. Crosley is a fine writer, and loads of people have warmly praised the book. They are probably above me on the food (and/or literary) chain as well. I didn’t have a life of privilege, so, reading about those who have had and make such messes of their lives, care so little about anything outside their circle of privileged-self, exhausts and angers me.
Funnily enough, I read this while house-sitting in a home where the people have great privilege but manage to interact with the world, with others who’ve less (like, say, ME) and are kind, down-to-earth folks who engage with others because of the content of their souls, not their bank accounts. As luck would have it, they are also readers, and have a complete Easton Press collection of classic works including The Tales of Guy de Maupassant. Funny world.