Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders

i kind of see what he is trying to do here but i hated most of this book, and the bits i didn't hate, i resented for not being good enough to counterbalance the hours i spent reading some of the worst things i have ever read. huge swaths of it are gross and much of the rest of it is sad, and if there are a few exquisite paragraphs amongst the morass, i'm here to tell you that you can find equally good paragraphs in other books. well-written, interestingly-structured, unique, yes; but in the service of nothing i cared to experience.

i thought i would finish it out of a desire to see if the payoff would make it all worthwhile (it didn't) but in the end, what really got me over the finish line was a combination of morbid curiosity and sheer bloody-mindedness. a merely bad book could be left unfinished; a book that i am going to describe henceforth as one of the worst i've ever read deserves me to at least not walk out at intermission.

more than anything else, the book reminded me of insufferable boyfriends i had in college, the sort who would not close the bathroom door while doing their business because "we should be completely comfortable with each other's bodies" and then imply that if i preferred some privacy i was somehow prudish or close-minded or sexually repressed.

anyway, don't read this.