The culture Iwasaki reveals is more than enough for me to give her a pass on the somewhat stilted writing - she isn't an author by trade, after all.

I especially enjoy the fact that she pretty much wrote this as a big "fuck you" to Arthur Golden, who ignored her request for anonymity when she helped him with Memoirs of a Geisha; it's worth noting that Golden also misrepresented many facts about the life of geisha in general.

I could not handle such a career - the lack of good sleep for such a long period alone is enough to make me cringe sympathy.

I forgot how much I love Kitty until I picked up this book.

I really enjoyed the journey that this book took me on, though I was a little iffy on the end, mostly

because Jane was really upset that Gabriel had killed Bud for her and that should have affected her relationship with him. Maybe her fight-to-the-death with Missy changed her perspective on what her priorities are? It wasn't explicitly implied anywhere after the battle. I feel that was a bit of a weakness on the book's part to throw it in there as a way to show that he cared for her without having to do any more actual relationship groundwork.

Aside from that, the writing had me in stitches. Jane is a girl after my own heart, literary references and snarky commentary and all. I would probably strangle my mother if she was like hers, though. I do not respond well to constant "subtle" insults and manipulation in the form of Christmas vests (not that has ever occurred, thankfully).

My favorite scene has to be when she returns from a terrible day at a scam telemarketing company smelling of all the smokes and Gabriel attempted to manfully seduce her while also trying to ignore his higher senses:

“This is not the night to do this. Stinky is definitely not the note I want to start out on,” I said, sniffing my once-lucky-now-destined-for-burning sweater. “I’m going home and bathing in tomato juice. It worked when Fitz used a skunk as a chew toy last summer.”

“Stay a few moments,” he said, stroking my knees as I slipped the sweater back on. “I think I can tolerate your aromatic presence a while longer.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. He kissed me softly, tracing the line of my mouth with his tongue before withdrawing and doing his best to hide his instinct to recoil.

We sat in silence and listened to frogs chirping on his front lawn. Gabriel was slowly but surely leaning his head away from me. After a minute or so, his face was as far away from me as his neck would allow.

Sometimes you do horrible shit and nothing you say after will make it okay. That's a pretty lofty lesson to learn at such a young age. I love this book; it doesn't resolve everything with a nice little bow, but it still educates.