A review by bexlrose
Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellmann


FINALLY finished reading Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellmann. Buckle up because I haven't been this angry about a book in a long while. It was over 1000 pages of pure stream-of-consciousness. 1000 PAGES. Fuck you Ellmann, I want my life back. At 200 pages I'd have given it 4 stars, I thought it was fab at that point, after another 100 pages I was beginning to think it was toss, after another 200 pages I felt like I was embarking upon an act of self flagellation. I put it down after 500 pages and didn't pick it up again for 6 months because, ya know, good books are out there. I thought I'd better finish it because otherwise I wouldn't be able to write this seething review and tell you all how awful it is. Not gonna lie, I skim-read the last 500 pages and I'M NOT EVEN SORRY. Here is my full review in 3 words:
Utter pretentious wank.

Ellmann thinks she's shit-hot, and I'm sure she's a complete genius, I mean you'd really have to be to write this book (that or demented) but just because you CAN write a 1000 page novel about someone's day that starts every new thought with the words 'the fact that' DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD. I hear the author was condescending about crime fiction in an interview too which just filled me with rage considering how if any police officers read her book she could legitimately be charged with wasting police time.

1.5 stars (she made a few good points and there was a metaphor about a lioness running throughout which, whilst in itself was deeply boring, did make for a good allegory)