This definitely comes across as a contemplative classic. Reading it has the vibe of sitting alone by a lake and pondering life while you watch sunlight glimmer off the water as the surface ripples with the breeze. Very old-school American novel.

The portrayal of a poorly matched marriage is tough to read, I felt bad for both sides - and I felt still worse about how

their daughter becomes a human staging ground for Edith's aggressions against Stoner. Another glaring point is how clear it is that communications about intimacy, discomfort, and consent are important in creating healthy relationships, Edith and Stoner just do not have that at all and it's not great.

I have to give stars for how uncomfortable the prose made me feel at times, that's not easy to accomplish with me.

Also Hollis Lomax sucks.

One online review I read for this book says that it has "shades of American Psycho and Fight Club." I find myself inclined to disagree with that.

I also have to say that the trigger warning content hits more like a wet sock than a baseball bat: it's objectively gross on the page, of course, because it would also be gross irl, but there's a kind of lack of subjective grossness to it that makes it fall a bit flat to me. It doesn't FEEL as heinous as it should, it's almost bland in how spare the prose is. That's down to how Irina views it all, though, I think. She isn't affected in the ways you'd expect, so that's how things come across through the lens of her character - they happen, and that's it.

Perhaps I came in with my expectations too high, though. Or maybe it's meant to show exactly how twisted certain events in Irina's life have caused her to become, I'm not sure.

Something Irina's friend Flo tells her sums up what Irina spends the whole book trying to disprove and fight against, from beginning to end: "You want to think you're not like other women, but you are, you know. You're still... that's still how the rest of the world, how men are going to see you."

On a technical note:
It's easy to tell that this is Clark's first novel. I'm wondering how all the semicolons and seemingly excessive commas got through the editing process, because that was a Choice. There are many points in the book where I looked at the construction of the writing and thought, "Why?" 
I've also read Penance, and Clark clearly put in some work to improve her craft during the writing process of that one.

I first read Catcher in high school as required reading, and fell in love with it. 

The same copy lasted me just under a decade, until I had an unfortunate extended psychiatric event and lost the book in the process.

That bit of information probably says a lot about why I fell in love with the book in the first place: when I first read it, I was also a sad as fuck teenager, burdened with a mind that was going downhill and easily pissed off by pretty much everything. The book came into my life at the right time: when I needed something to hold onto and feel like it wasn't just me.

I remain mentally ill - I always will be, as that's the nature of my malady. The overarching thing of the story is that Holden is relaying it all from where he's staying in a hospital, so, given that, I remain attached to the story despite how I'm nearly twice Holden's age now.

Most of my classmates hated Holden. I couldn't understand why they were so focused on the surface of his flaws and didn't give much thought to everything that's going on with him that causes him to act and think like he does.

In terms of misogyny.... teenage boy, written in the 50s, attending an all-boys boarding school. What else needs to be said. It's an artifact of the times. Use your brain with a critical thinking eye and you will be just fine.

Also, is he egocentric? Idealistic? Hypocritical? Sure. But that's a normal part of teenage development. 
And he's just a messed up kid.

I've watched the movie a few times before, but never read the book until this month. 

Hannibal Lecter isn't the main focus, but I was curious to know how the author's portrayal of the character compares to that of the versions of him played by Anthony Hopkins, Mads Mikkelsen, and Brian Cox. He's very unique in appearance, which works all right for the book, but I find that I'm glad there were never attempts to replicate it on film as I'm not sure it ever would've looked quite right. The edition I've read includes an author's note that mentions the real life inspiration for him, which I knew only vaguely.

It was interesting to learn more about Jame Gumb, as info about his background didn't factor much into the movie at all if I remember correctly.

The reveal of his murder of his grandparents at age 12 - along with the consequent psychiatric institutionalization -immediately reminded me of Ed Kemper, who killed both his grandparents at 15. He "just wanted to see what it felt like."

I wonder if that was part of the inspiration for Jame Gumb's character.

As far as the book itself goes, it definitely lives up to the hype. I had a fun time finding snippets that were used in NBC's Hannibal, it felt like happening upon a little trail of metaphorical candy, and I was rooting for Clarice Starling from the moment I first met her on the page - even though I already knew her character from the movie.