Have you ever fantasized about having sex with a mermaid/merman/merperson? Then this IS the book for you! Unfortunately, I have not and it was not.
I’ve been reading Melissa Broder’s work for years in different formats and styles (see her book of personal essays and corresponding twitter account, her poetry, and her monthly existential horoscope). I enjoy her voice and am willing to follow her down most paths, but I couldn’t get behind most of this storyline (falling in love with a mythical creature in a non-fantastical world).
The novel follows Lucy who is in a rut with her PhD dissertation, her long term relationship, and her life generally. She spirals when pieces of her life begins collapsing and escapes to her sister’s home on the beach where she begins group therapy, bonds with a dog, and falls for a merman.
Aside from grimacing during some of the sex scenes (this may just be me; I find most sex scenes to be gratuitous and unnecessary for my own interests, but they are probably delightful for people seeking steamy descriptions), I fell in love with so many of the sentences in this book.Broder has a beautiful way of writing about depression that really connects with me and I love reading her bits on this and generally moving through life. Single sentences are haunting and poetic and I’ve included some of my favorites below.
Overall — if you read this description and were like “OH YEAH!” you should pick up this book. If it didn’t sound like it was up your alley, you’re probably right and should skip it. Also feel free to enjoy these sexy merman ornaments that I found while wandering around Manhattan two weeks ago.
Quotes are from an advance reader copy and may differ slightly from the final published format.
“I felt tears rise up. I had not cried in years. I had felt, for a long time, that if I started crying I would not stop — that if I finally ripped, there would be nothing to stop my guts from falling out.”
“I didn’t want to be seen too closely, or I might have to look at me too.”
“Part of me was reacting to the pain. But another part of me liked being melodramatic, babying myself.”
I had to stop all of my plans the day I was reading this because this was SO GOOD, but it also made me want to collapse into a puddle of tears. Reading about other people’s mental health always makes me feel some type of way — comforted by feeling seen through shared experiences but shattered that so many people have these same experiences and feelings. That said, it was great to see a range of different types of mental health covered (in addition to the heavily talked about depression and anxiety), along with the factors that can contribute to issues developing and the aftermath that can be caused after issues emerge. This is primarily a zine (though can it technically be a zine if it has a ISBN number?) about mental health with a few recipes sprinkled throughout, contrary to my friend’s and my belief that it would be an equally balanced food and mind zine since one of the editors is Great British Bake Off‘s Ruby Tandoh.
Coffee in the photo is courtesy of Chicago’s Bang Bang Pie & Biscuits and will be included in a future coffee review post of all of the coffee beans I’ve tried for my cold brew creations.
My boyfriend asked me to read this and so I did. I introduce my review this way because this is a novel that I wouldn’t have picked up on my own – I didn’t find the movie to be Academy worthy *cough* and I didn’t find the premise particularly compelling. However, the book is actually quite different from the film and presents a much more engaging story.
Pat, the book’s lead character, begins the story in a mental institution (also known as “the bad place”) and most of the book follows him trying to come to terms with his reality: he now lives at home with his parents, years having passed since he entered the “bad place” and he isn’t fully aware of exactly a) how much time has passed, b) what has changed, or c) what caused him to leave his old reality. The best parts of the book consisted of descriptions of Pat navigating his present reality and understanding that he has, and will likely always have, mental wellness dilemmas.
The love story component wasn’t that interesting and walks a thin line adjacent to the manic pixie dream girl trope. I forgave this since the narrator was so intensely focused and had a hard time practicing empathy with anyone, making me believe that storyline was intentionally written that way. Overall, Silver Linings Playbook was a very quick + breezy read, but I’m not sure I’ll remember much about the story a year from now.