Kind of a meh book to be honest.

I thought it would fascinate me to read about the slow demise of Esther's brain, but instead it left me with simple confusion and frustration at her unreliability. While the prose was at times beautiful (I definitely earmarked and underlined multiple quotes) I simply wasn't completely sold on this as a 'classic' American novel. The parts I did love were her feministic (is that a word) views despite taking place in the time of housewives and homemakers as well as the perfect metaphor of depression being like looking at the world through a bell jar.