I had to read this for class, and of all the assigned novels it was the one I most expected to like. But it's the one I like the least.
It's not fiction, for starters, and that bugs me in a class for writing fiction. The author is a poet and it's the story of her poetic life. I am not that literary a writer. I am not overly-enamored of literary events. Just the same way I suppose I prefer musicals to straight plays; I am easily bored.
This book has a very long chapter detailing readings the author was part of in the 1970s. I guess she's probably a good poet and all that; I'm not sure just how one judges poetry and mostly it goes over my head or something and I think "wow, that's it?"
The book's timeline is a bit awkward to follow; several times I didn't know what Myles was talking about: when was this? where were you? What the hell is going on here?
The novel jumps, it incorporates poetry into the narrative, which seems a bit pretentious, but I guess it makes sense since she is a poet. I thought the lesbian perspective would make me really love this book, but it doesn't. There are parts of it that I can definitely and do relate to.
The tone of the book is very strange, too; the writing is at times very compelling and highly readable but at the same time it sounds almost as if it's being written by someone with a very low mental capacity. Or someone who's about fourteen years old. It's hard to explain unless you pick it up and read a bit of it, but that's the impression I am left with. Boring, annoying and rather pretentious. I'm really sorry to say it. I had expected so much better.