“Read” is an overstatement, as I abandoned ship on the 112th page. This novel managed to somehow make me feel like I was expecting to feel about Simone de Beauvoir’s novels before ever getting my hands on one: a -somehow very intensely sexist- unilateral view of feminism, women’s must and must nots, once again dictated by and serving ultimately men. Only now, it’s men who we admire, on account of them being… rich, older, annoyingly eloquent and emotionally unavailable? I was thankfully wrong about SdB, but this one granted me the full experience. I don’t know if it gets better on the way, but this book not only bored me, it also annoyed me. The protagonist seems to only ponder internally, and all the reflections on her political and national background seem to be done by men who all fit the aforementioned description. The only thing keeping me going was the hope of some type of redemption arc, but I don’t think this is what we’re getting.