Reading the book can feel like listening in on an incredibly uncomfortable conversation between two people in the throes of a breakup: the experience is squirm-making, seems a little sordid, and is often thrilling ... Cumulatively, the parts of We Are Too Many tell the story of heartbreak in perhaps the most scorching, gutting, and tantalizing way imaginable.
In the final section, where Pittard writes plaintively about her friend Trish, the full scale of her loss is felt, and it’s here that she finds true pathos ... Pittard’s frankness stings, and the stripped-down format makes this all the more potent. It’s a powerhouse.
The fractured chronology sometimes makes it tricky to follow, but overall this part is snappy and controlled ... The second section is less charming, envisioning a dialogue in second person with an imagined version of her husband. Here, bitterness and TMI prevail.