Did you listen to a podcast? Did the hosts make jokes? Do you have a dark sense of humour? Did that make it okay? Or were they sensitive about it? Did they coo in the right places? Did they give you a content warning? Did you skip ahead? Did you see pictures? Did you look for them?

From the jump it’s clear that Eliza Clark is an incredibly talented writer. The way she’s able to depict the distinct tone of every character was actually kinda freaking me out- especially when it would be a transcript of a flippant podcast or a tumblr comment. Uncanny.

This is an unflinching look at the ethics of the way we talk about true crime cases and victims as well as how we talk to the people around them. Furthermore, it asks us to consider journalistic integrity and accuracy/objectivity. Who has the right to tell the story? When talking about true crime, it feels like people forget that these are real people whose real lives have been turned upside down and the line between the curiosity we feel and being invasive is thin.

Overarching topics/themes/points of interests: toxic internet culture, toxic friendships, ethics of true crime, men telling women’s stories, fandoms, and more.

Expanding on ways that toxic internet culture is depicted: online bullying and mental health implications, the disconnect between online personas and how people are perceived in real life, and what happens when an online persona is outed in an insular setting like high school. “Tumblr did ‘cancel culture’ before cancel culture was a thing.” Also something I couldn’t stop thinking about was the casual way people tend to talk about horrific things online and even subsequent romanization. Quotes like “entry level serial killers” and the idea of “flower crowns on mass shooters” stood out to me and reminded me of the AHS edits of Tate in the skeleton makeup I’d see when I was younger.

Something to note: the narrator insists he passes no judgement on anyone who was involved but seems to play with the question of whether Joni’s murder was justified. Maybe that was just me. The decision to have a male narrator talking about high school girls was also particularly impactful to me. With the opening letting the reader know that we have an unreliable narrator, it really colors the way he dramatizes the information into prose and dialogue.

I’ve never read a true crime book before but I imagine this is how it would be (although this is obviously fiction). I did get ever so slightly bored at times, but everything adds up to play a role in the bigger picture. I do wish that I understood more about the Brexit implications, but that’s a me thing, not the author. I’ll probably think about this book for the rest of my life.

There’s something about the unsettling internal monologue of a woman that’s going to do it for me every time. The ending……….

I wasn’t really sure what to expect with this, but it has blown me away. A real statement on what it means to be a human being; to get out of your head and live real life- existential. An exploration of dichotomies and contradictions. Pain, pleasure, joy, suffering, knowledge, fear, god, nothingness.

I don’t think that I could properly articulate the way this book made me feel or what I took from it, but maybe I wasn’t meant to understand ;)

Also, don’t skip the afterword!!

Fav book of all time fr.

Slow first half, not as much character development as I had expected based on the hype

Men who choose the terrain of reason, as opposed to emotion, place themselves in a position of authority. Only someone in a position of dominance can permit himself to be calm and reasonable in any circumstance, because he is not the one who is suffering.

It’s when men are allowed to get together among themselves that they develop their worst characteristics.

This is a good start for anyone interested in learning about misandry and some common misconceptions about what it is and how it could be useful. Nothing exists in a vacuum and misandry is no exception. Why do we worry so much about sparing men’s feelings? In what other context does it make sense to protect the feelings of the oppressor? This is fairly surface level as it’s an essay rather than a full book (I think there’s more to be said in terms of intersectionality), but I still enjoyed it as a stepping stone.

I’m finding this hard to even rate. I feel like I have so much to say, but also I’m speechless? I’m a pretty fast reader and nothing usually phases me much, but I had to stop reading this several times because I was so sick to my stomach. This is such a brutal novel, but a necessary story. Some aspects that really struck me were how well the complexity and reach of these issues were depicted and the discussion around victimhood and agency.

This book has Divine Rivals vibes in that there is an epistolary element where the two main characters are exchanging anonymous letters, though DR is more lyrical as a whole. This book is spunky and I definitely enjoyed reading it- I will say it perhaps could’ve been 50-100 pages shorter. Nonetheless, I’d recommend this book to anyone looking for a cozy yet macabre, sweet fantasy romance.

It’s an objectively good book, but I just didn’t connect with the story the way I thought I would.

It’s wild to think this was written pre-Covid. I really enjoyed the social commentary.