I'm still not sure how I feel about this book. Some would argue that is the mark of a good book and a good writer, but I think it is more the subject matter that bothers me than anything having to do with the writing. Amy Koppelman is definitely a good writer - she uses stark, careful language that gets right to the heart of the matter, and I admire that. The subject matter of the book - a woman struggling to deal with depression and suicidal tendencies, even as she has every opportunity a woman could possibly desire - rings very true to me, but as the book wound down to its inevitable and terrible conclusion, I found myself wondering why this book was written at all.
What a selfish, despicable character the woman turned out to be! There seemed to be no hope for redemption for her at all - her self-centeredness tainted everything about the story, and made all the other people seem inconsequential, even her children and husband. They seemed to be only window-dressing for the obsessions of this childish woman, and the reasons behind her depression and suicide attempts seemed far too thin. Perhaps I'm simply missing the point with this book, but by the time I was through with it, I was sorry the author had wasted her considerable talents on such drivel.