I can't figure out if I'm relieved this story is over because it was so long or because it was so harrowing with very little let-up... Not that I mind harrowing. I'm okay reading about cruelty, evil and suffering, because although this is fiction, it is a reality of life. I'm also not saying that the plodding on and on and on with more and more grief is what limited my enjoyment of the book, but I definitely feel the unnecessary length, the odd use of tenses (or lack of history or dates to reveal time), the excessive detail and odd-choice of third-person narrator for such a personal story left me wanting so much more from such an epic-length novel that also lacked any sort of purpose, in my opinion.

That said, I do think there is a moral of this story: Get therapy.