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A review by torishams
Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados
3.75
Nothing really happens, but in an engrossing way. I think if I read this some other time, I wouldn't have been able to get through it, but for some reason, it kept pulling me back in. There were several parts about growing up, girlhood, feeling lost, and friendship that resonated so deeply that I think they made me like this book more.
* Seeing someone you used to love is like visiting a house you once lived in. everything about them is familiar yet strange. the greater the distance between you, the more unbelievable they seem. maybe i have always been involved in some kind of fieldwork. (10%)
* When we were younger, everything for the first time always felt the best, or at least the Most, and sometimes getting older feels like striking the same chord and it sounding different. i shared this melancholy with Gala, who sees nostalgia as the first sign of aging, and she said, “I don’t know how you can be sad in this heat! I, for one, am trying to stay young for as long as possible.” (17%)
* Summer solstice came and went, and in a way I find that sad because even though it is the longest day of the year and marks the beginning of summer, from now on, the days grow shorter and shorter. It’s true that some parties end before they even begin. (33%)
* “It’s funny how in a place where everything is an Experience, people see such little value in just living.” (35%)
* Though we give the appearance of it, I wonder when we were truly carefree. Were we ever? It’s an odd, impalpable thing to always chase. I’ve felt it in small, delicious fragments, and usually when I’m dancing. The only way to achieve even the veneer of such freedom is to resist being pulled down by the weight of everything. (37%)
* She introduced Gala and me to the critic: “Isn’t it rare to find two people who like art without the intention of ever making it? I’m really wowed by people without artistic inclinations, aren’t you?” The critic peered over his glasses to take a good look at us. “How do you know they’re not just gathering material?” (39%)
* I realize now, the older you get, the harder it is to be impressed because people make you feel ashamed of ever being impressed by anything at all. I keep many glowing remarks to myself because of this. (41%)
* Sometimes I long for anything that might be frivolous. I go between feeling much too young and much too old for my age. I crave nothing serious, but when I pursue it, I am the one to drag a dark cloud overhead. It’s much easier to seem silly and light than to be the sum of your experiences. If only I could exists as perfect lightness, always laughing with my mouth open. I would float through life with ease, believing in my own unserious personality. It takes no effort to convince people you are in fact just that. They start to expect that of you, and nothing more. (44%)
* I have tried to stitch together tenderness from each person. Wring them of it. I want all the tenderness in the world. It’s a natural urge to want to be important in someone’s life. The soft underbelly of a coarse man. A preview is never enough because I am insatiable. (56%)
* Is it wrong to think of pain as quantifiable? If it is not in quantities, how can we digest it? How does it move through our bodies without us knowing its size? (67%)
* It’s funny how children can still go on even after their parents have died. You’d think it was only polite for someone who gave you entrance to the world to see you through it. (81%)
* I’m lucky because moment to moment I do not feel the sum of my experiences. I work hard to keep it that way because if I did, I would never do anything. I’d never go anywhere. Resilience is key. It would be nice if whenever someone said, “I love you,” it meant, “Everything will be fine.” It’s all reassurance anyway. (82%)
like that last one is so devastating are you kidding
* Seeing someone you used to love is like visiting a house you once lived in. everything about them is familiar yet strange. the greater the distance between you, the more unbelievable they seem. maybe i have always been involved in some kind of fieldwork. (10%)
* When we were younger, everything for the first time always felt the best, or at least the Most, and sometimes getting older feels like striking the same chord and it sounding different. i shared this melancholy with Gala, who sees nostalgia as the first sign of aging, and she said, “I don’t know how you can be sad in this heat! I, for one, am trying to stay young for as long as possible.” (17%)
* Summer solstice came and went, and in a way I find that sad because even though it is the longest day of the year and marks the beginning of summer, from now on, the days grow shorter and shorter. It’s true that some parties end before they even begin. (33%)
* “It’s funny how in a place where everything is an Experience, people see such little value in just living.” (35%)
* Though we give the appearance of it, I wonder when we were truly carefree. Were we ever? It’s an odd, impalpable thing to always chase. I’ve felt it in small, delicious fragments, and usually when I’m dancing. The only way to achieve even the veneer of such freedom is to resist being pulled down by the weight of everything. (37%)
* She introduced Gala and me to the critic: “Isn’t it rare to find two people who like art without the intention of ever making it? I’m really wowed by people without artistic inclinations, aren’t you?” The critic peered over his glasses to take a good look at us. “How do you know they’re not just gathering material?” (39%)
* I realize now, the older you get, the harder it is to be impressed because people make you feel ashamed of ever being impressed by anything at all. I keep many glowing remarks to myself because of this. (41%)
* Sometimes I long for anything that might be frivolous. I go between feeling much too young and much too old for my age. I crave nothing serious, but when I pursue it, I am the one to drag a dark cloud overhead. It’s much easier to seem silly and light than to be the sum of your experiences. If only I could exists as perfect lightness, always laughing with my mouth open. I would float through life with ease, believing in my own unserious personality. It takes no effort to convince people you are in fact just that. They start to expect that of you, and nothing more. (44%)
* I have tried to stitch together tenderness from each person. Wring them of it. I want all the tenderness in the world. It’s a natural urge to want to be important in someone’s life. The soft underbelly of a coarse man. A preview is never enough because I am insatiable. (56%)
* Is it wrong to think of pain as quantifiable? If it is not in quantities, how can we digest it? How does it move through our bodies without us knowing its size? (67%)
* It’s funny how children can still go on even after their parents have died. You’d think it was only polite for someone who gave you entrance to the world to see you through it. (81%)
* I’m lucky because moment to moment I do not feel the sum of my experiences. I work hard to keep it that way because if I did, I would never do anything. I’d never go anywhere. Resilience is key. It would be nice if whenever someone said, “I love you,” it meant, “Everything will be fine.” It’s all reassurance anyway. (82%)
like that last one is so devastating are you kidding