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torchlab's Reviews (135)
I liked this book more than I expected to. Ratajkowski is an incisive, observant writer with an eye for striking detail. Her stories of rubbing elbows with some of the most famous people in the fashion and entertainment worlds are just as engrossing as her memories of her childhood home. And her take on the politics of being a famous model—which is, essentially, that all women are exploited and judged by men on basis of their bodies, so why not profit from that if possible—is an intriguing, if somewhat cynical perspective.
My one main issue with this book is that Ratajkowski seems unaware that plenty of women exist who in fact don’t care about their looks or what men think of them, and that these women can and do live happy and fulfilled lives. In Ratajkowski’s conception of the world, all women are trapped in and by their bodies, unable to escape the constant mental burden of calculating how the world sees them. And while I understand why she has this view, and even agree with it to an extent, I wish for her own sake as much as the imaginative boundaries of her writing that she understood that not every woman has to feel this trapped. Tl;dr Emrata have you ever talked to a butch lesbian in your life I think it would benefit you
My one main issue with this book is that Ratajkowski seems unaware that plenty of women exist who in fact don’t care about their looks or what men think of them, and that these women can and do live happy and fulfilled lives. In Ratajkowski’s conception of the world, all women are trapped in and by their bodies, unable to escape the constant mental burden of calculating how the world sees them. And while I understand why she has this view, and even agree with it to an extent, I wish for her own sake as much as the imaginative boundaries of her writing that she understood that not every woman has to feel this trapped. Tl;dr Emrata have you ever talked to a butch lesbian in your life I think it would benefit you
Flawed but fascinating; you’ve probably never read another book like it, and after reading it I suspect I never will. I don’t quite know what this book is really about but I will say that what has stuck with me the most since reading it is its portrayal of how men—across time, space, class, circumstance, and desire—devalue and mistreat women, and what that does to their psychological landscapes. Anyway, this is a very funny book.
Baxter! What else is there to say really. Read this fucking book if you’re a writer.
Offill’s approach to writing a narrative is interesting: this book is blissfully free of plot or even really any kind of forward motion, instead relying on the steady accretion of coincidence and observation to serve as a propulsive force. The narrator is also a bit of a wash. Not much distinguishes her from many of the other nervous white women in the post-Trump autofiction that I’ve read. What this means, basically, is that the book won’t grab you unless you like Offill’s prose. Which I did, most of the time.
I literally started (and of course never finished) writing an essay because of how many thoughts I have about this book. The short version of it is: this is a book that has very many missteps and flaws, all of which were visible to me during and after reading it, and yet it grabbed me like almost nothing else I’ve ever read. I both laughed out loud and cried real tears multiple times while reading it. The relationship between Reese and Katrina is one of the most unique I’ve come across in any work of fiction, and it is portrayed with such astonishing tenderness and care and detail. A rich, complicated, frustrating book you will not regret reading.
Brandon Taylor is the real fucking deal guys. Forget all the neurotic white ladies of autofiction: Brandon Taylor is where it’s at. Side note if you aren’t reading his newsletter already you need to remedy that ASAP. He has the best Substack out there.
I picked this up after reading Detransition, Baby earlier in the year because I was so intrigued by Torrey Peters’ writing. It honestly isn’t much like DTB—it’s way shorter, for one thing, and it doesn’t feel as thoroughly developed or wide-ranging as the character in that book. But I still found it a worthwhile read, simply because I think Torrey Peters as a writer is refreshingly courageous and also wholly unpretentious, which is a rare combination. The ending of this book is one of those haunting and painfully inevitable ends that you see coming a mile away but wish you didn’t.
I am not a habitual reader of romance, so my initial rating/review of this book was unenthusiastic. However, after reading more within the genre, I have come to appreciate this book quite a bit. The prose style is snappy and fun, the main characters are extremely charming, and the world they live in feels believable and rich. I still don’t think romance is really my thing - if it were I’d probably rate this book 4 stars or above - but this was solid.
Genuinely fucking haunting. Bone-chilling. Etc. What all these tech dudes (and yes they are pretty much all dudes for reasons made extremely clear in this book) have done to, in no particular order, the Internet, American politics, San Francisco, consumer privacy, right-wing extremism, and content moderation practices is beyond unforgivable. Made me want to throw my phone into a lake.