It's hard to describe the way I felt reading this novel. There was definitely anger there, but it started tipping into something crazy, perhaps how a rural male Midwesterner feels when they accidentally click on an Adam Lambert music video. That feeling almost scared me more than the book itself. Let's just say it was the absolute wrong time for me to be reading a novel where objectification of women is the persistent and constant theme.
Anyway, I think I managed to write something coherent and critical. Now that I've used up all my self-control for the next month, I think I'm going to stop coordinating my outfits, combing my hair or even trying to assume the guise of a a polite person for at least a week.
One more thing: I know the haters will be out in full force in the comments section so if you have something constructive to add, I encourage you to hop over and say your piece.