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A review by joepyeweed
How to Be Alone: If You Want To, and Even If You Don't by Lane Moore
reflective
medium-paced
1.0
Why do I keep finishing completely intolerable books…?
I was expecting a book about coping with loneliness, or a critique of the “you must be in a relationship” culture, but instead it was a memoir by a person that sounds incredibly self-centered and mean, with a conversational tone that was totally intolerable, obnoxious, and self-deprecating in the worst way. It had the vibe of a person who thinks they’re really self-aware, but actually aren’t. SO much of this book was whining about “why can’t every person I ever encounter READ MY MIND and know what I need without my needing to tell them?!!” I get that they had a rough childhood and that sucks. Same. And it sucks that they don’t have friends. But also, they’re mean about every single person they encounter. So I didn’t end the book with much sympathy for them at all.
Also soooo heteronormative (despite the fact that the author is queer) and unbelievably amatonormative. Romantic love is not the only kind of love, Lane. Jeez.
And finally, the “conclusions” about how great it is to be alone, which they throw in at the end, do not derive at all from the two hundred pages of pity party that precede them.
I was expecting a book about coping with loneliness, or a critique of the “you must be in a relationship” culture, but instead it was a memoir by a person that sounds incredibly self-centered and mean, with a conversational tone that was totally intolerable, obnoxious, and self-deprecating in the worst way. It had the vibe of a person who thinks they’re really self-aware, but actually aren’t. SO much of this book was whining about “why can’t every person I ever encounter READ MY MIND and know what I need without my needing to tell them?!!” I get that they had a rough childhood and that sucks. Same. And it sucks that they don’t have friends. But also, they’re mean about every single person they encounter. So I didn’t end the book with much sympathy for them at all.
Also soooo heteronormative (despite the fact that the author is queer) and unbelievably amatonormative. Romantic love is not the only kind of love, Lane. Jeez.
And finally, the “conclusions” about how great it is to be alone, which they throw in at the end, do not derive at all from the two hundred pages of pity party that precede them.
Content Warnings
Minor: Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Sexual assault, and Suicidal thoughts