The event that’s detailed on its back cover...does not happen until page 182. That incident also gives the book its title, and the effect is that the first 181 pages feel rushed and summarized ... Feels more like notes for a novel than a finished product. Decades race by in the space of a few pages, there are huge gaps in the narrative and most of the novel ... It’s a sordid story, the pain and emptiness of which are underscored by Kraus’ unadorned prose. When things start coming together, it’s compelling stuff. But there’s way too much aimless wandering on the way there.
Not her best work, and it’s probably not the place to start with her. But if you’ve followed her, you’ll probably want to read it anyway, to catch the next episode, as it were, of her long semi-autobiographical project. It has its rewards ... As it percolates along, has many extra-fine moments. It contains one of the most sensitive and intricate portraits of alcoholism I’ve read in a long time.
The stories of Brittney, Evan, Micah, and Brandon are heartrending, harrowing, not unfamiliar, and certainly not singular ... The book’s final wallop is unexpected, delivered by Kraus/Catt with a cool, open hand.
