A review by monasterywine
The Pregnant Widow by Martin Amis

2.0

First three quarters, when they were twenty in Italy, felt fun if like a much less sharp extension of the rachel papers, but then as adults, oh my God, so heavy, makes you want to kill yourself the second you get your first wrinkle, lately I feel like everything I read about real adulthood feels like this. So houellebecquian. I don’t think I enjoyed it. The first part I enjoyed reading through my fingers, felt illicit and like reading a teenage boy's diary, something I’m not supposed to be let in on, then the end something I’m not supposed to see in the sense of a snuff film