You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.21 AVERAGE
4.21 AVERAGE
Miranda July can do no wrong. Brilliantly clever stories and the characters are so honest, you feel you have met each one.
dark
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
For non-book records, review text and ratings are hidden. Only mood, pace, and content warnings are visible.
“I wasn’t a stone. I was one of life’s biggest fans, the best example of a living thing”
—————————
My first taste of Miranda July’s writing and I’m fascinated. I’ll be reading more and watching some of her films ♡
—————————
My first taste of Miranda July’s writing and I’m fascinated. I’ll be reading more and watching some of her films ♡
taking a unique personal detail from the past and showing how it lingers in what is otherwise very normal life for the protagonist. On the one hand, I totally agree, the way that Miranda took this weird and totally fascinating detail and forms the story is incredible. On the other hand, for me, it does not work perfectly. Maybe it is the writing style, perhaps it was just the mood that I was in the day that I read it or perhaps it was just the piece, but it felt to me that the piece did not explore this fascinating subject to its fullest potential. Miranda could go deeper but she doesn't. I feel like this piece could also be shorter. I don't believe that every detail was earned or was progressing the world-building or was interesting. I am sure that I am going to remember the ending of this piece for a long time. She crafted an exceptional ending.
dark
funny
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
challenging
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
NSFW. A light and fun read nonetheless. A great short story with moments of endearing awkwardness and a clean resolution. To explore how one memory can affect one's perception of identity and their intimate relationships is interesting and was well-developed in this story.
"We’d been tunnelling toward each other for years. It was hard work, but the assumption was that eventually our two tunnels would connect. We’d break through—Hallelujah! Clay-encrusted hands finally seizing each other!—and we would be together, really together, for the remaining time that we were alive. So long as we both dug as hard and as fast as we could, everything would work out. But, of course, neither of us knew for sure how the other person’s digging was going. One of us might have been doggedly tunnelling toward the other person, while the other person was curling away in another direction. That person might not even have been aware of how off course he or she was. One of us might have tunnelled straight down for a few weeks, in anger, and then tried to get back on track, but now honestly had no idea where to go. We might break through—Hallelujah!—only to find that we were seizing the dirty hands of a stranger. What to do then? Or we might simply get tired, and stop digging, decide that here was good enough. All the while saying things like “We must be getting close!” and “I can’t wait until the day finally comes!” We might never meet up at all; we might die before it happened. Or worse: maybe there had never been any hope of our meeting up, because what was that even a metaphor for? Oneness? A child’s dream of love?"
"We’d been tunnelling toward each other for years. It was hard work, but the assumption was that eventually our two tunnels would connect. We’d break through—Hallelujah! Clay-encrusted hands finally seizing each other!—and we would be together, really together, for the remaining time that we were alive. So long as we both dug as hard and as fast as we could, everything would work out. But, of course, neither of us knew for sure how the other person’s digging was going. One of us might have been doggedly tunnelling toward the other person, while the other person was curling away in another direction. That person might not even have been aware of how off course he or she was. One of us might have tunnelled straight down for a few weeks, in anger, and then tried to get back on track, but now honestly had no idea where to go. We might break through—Hallelujah!—only to find that we were seizing the dirty hands of a stranger. What to do then? Or we might simply get tired, and stop digging, decide that here was good enough. All the while saying things like “We must be getting close!” and “I can’t wait until the day finally comes!” We might never meet up at all; we might die before it happened. Or worse: maybe there had never been any hope of our meeting up, because what was that even a metaphor for? Oneness? A child’s dream of love?"
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexual content
funny
fast-paced