The first time I read it, I had the same preconceptions on what the story ought to be: A novel about a literary agent in Manhattan trying and failing to find love, peppered with witticisms and ultra-hip whining, drinking of cosmopolitans, et cetera. I actually became a little annoyed when I found out that Girl’s Guide is actually not a full novel so much as a collection of loosely connected narratives. The stories takes us through the lives of these urbane individuals who weren’t immune to heartbreak, cancer, and professional ennui, despite their perfect haircuts and their perfect vacations. But I ended up reading this book again over the years, and I found that I take away something new from it every time. The very last story is my favorite one, and makes reading the whole book actually worth it. It makes a gentle mockery of people looking at self-help books to get them the love of their lives, while at the same time acknowledging the in these modern times, a girl just really wants someone who can help her with the answers.

I wasn't as enthused about this like I expected to be. While there are some fun, frothy elements, the female protagonist was just absolutely swimming in her own unexamined privilege that it's hard to be on board with her, even as the writer piles up the numerous layers of her personal woes. Plus the old fiance (and the other characters aside from Levi, who has some gross moments of his own) is not awarded with the kind of empathy and nuance that I wanted for spoilery reasons.

Clawing my face off. In my next life I will read this and Edward Said at the same time.

Didion writes like she's wielding a blowtorch. Holy crap.