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Topics of Conversation
For readers of Rachel Cusk, Lydia Davis, and Jenny Offill--a compact tour de force about sex, violence, and self-loathing from a ferociously talented new voice in fiction
Miranda Popkey's first novel is about desire, disgust, motherhood, loneliness, art, pain, feminism, anger, envy, guilt--written in language that sizzles with intelligence and eroticism. The novel is composed almost exclusively of conversations between women--the stories they tell each other, and the stories they tell themselves, about shame and love, infidelity and self-sabotage--and careens through twenty years in the life of an unnamed narrator hungry for experience and bent on upending her life. Edgy, wry, shot through with rage and despair, Topics of Conversation introduces an audacious and immensely gifted new novelist.
Miranda Popkey's first novel is about desire, disgust, motherhood, loneliness, art, pain, feminism, anger, envy, guilt--written in language that sizzles with intelligence and eroticism. The novel is composed almost exclusively of conversations between women--the stories they tell each other, and the stories they tell themselves, about shame and love, infidelity and self-sabotage--and careens through twenty years in the life of an unnamed narrator hungry for experience and bent on upending her life. Edgy, wry, shot through with rage and despair, Topics of Conversation introduces an audacious and immensely gifted new novelist.
162 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 7, 2020
708 people are currently reading
18650 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,535 reviews
January 5, 2020
I found this book to be pretentious and disengaging. Aside from the fact that none of the characters were likable, the book itself is written in primarily run-on sentences. If I wanted to read a Faulkner book, I would have and would have enjoyed it more, because Faulkner tells stories. I cannot for the life of me figure out why so many people are A) liking this book or B) saying they couldn't put it down. I found it very easy to put down actually. I wanted to throw it across the room.
June 19, 2020
4 Stars
This is how Miranda Popkey should feel about the bashing she's getting on Goodreads:
This book is great. Smart, intelligent and full of intricate thought-provoking conversations that stay with you. BUT if you're going to get all upset reading a book with run on sentences may I suggest picking up something else or just removing the stick from your ass.
This is how Miranda Popkey should feel about the bashing she's getting on Goodreads:
This book is great. Smart, intelligent and full of intricate thought-provoking conversations that stay with you. BUT if you're going to get all upset reading a book with run on sentences may I suggest picking up something else or just removing the stick from your ass.
Read
January 2, 2020Why I love it
by Cristina Arreola
Topics of Conversation is my worst nightmare come true: a book in which my darkest, most shameful, most secret thoughts are laid bare on the page. The title of this brisk, slim novel hints at its atypical structure—in lieu of a conventional plot, this novel takes us through twenty disparate years of the unnamed narrator’s life.
Each chapter of this debut is a different conversation taking place during the unnamed narrator’s life, from college years to newlywed status to motherhood. These conversations, primarily with other women, are usually unrelated to one other, but all are about sex, fear, motherhood, power, and disgust. It is a feast of intimacies that I gulped up greedily.
This is a provocative novel that pulses with curiosity, and it flows like actual conversations—moving from the mundane to the profane to the profound all within a few sentences. As the narrator tells us in the very first chapter, “I am never more covetous than when someone tells me a story, a secret…” As you race through this novel, you’ll understand exactly what she means. You might feel a little uncomfortable, like you’re overhearing a conversation that has become far too vulnerable. But you won’t turn away.
Read more at: https://bookofthemonth.com/topics-of-...
by Cristina Arreola
Topics of Conversation is my worst nightmare come true: a book in which my darkest, most shameful, most secret thoughts are laid bare on the page. The title of this brisk, slim novel hints at its atypical structure—in lieu of a conventional plot, this novel takes us through twenty disparate years of the unnamed narrator’s life.
Each chapter of this debut is a different conversation taking place during the unnamed narrator’s life, from college years to newlywed status to motherhood. These conversations, primarily with other women, are usually unrelated to one other, but all are about sex, fear, motherhood, power, and disgust. It is a feast of intimacies that I gulped up greedily.
This is a provocative novel that pulses with curiosity, and it flows like actual conversations—moving from the mundane to the profane to the profound all within a few sentences. As the narrator tells us in the very first chapter, “I am never more covetous than when someone tells me a story, a secret…” As you race through this novel, you’ll understand exactly what she means. You might feel a little uncomfortable, like you’re overhearing a conversation that has become far too vulnerable. But you won’t turn away.
Read more at: https://bookofthemonth.com/topics-of-...
February 16, 2020
In a way I feel a bit bad contributing to this book's overwhelmingly negative reception, because I do think it has more going for it than its low Goodreads rating might suggest, and I can see where others could get something out of it. But at the same time, this did literally nothing for me, so here we are.
The Rachel Cusk comparisons are a dime a dozen, and I will spare you from that seeing as I've never read Rachel Cusk; I will instead address the Sally Rooney comparisons. Both authors interrogate themes on womanhood, sex, sexuality, and give voice to a subset of young women who may have never seen these topics addressed so starkly in fiction. But for me the difference between these two authors lies in the fact that Rooney explores themes through character, and Popkey explores themes at the expense of character. The aptly unnamed narrator of Topics of Conversation feels like a prototype of Generic Young Woman Angst - maybe that's the point, maybe not - but her struggles all felt very Grand and Societal without being grounded in the microcosm enough to hold my interest. Basically: this is a book of commentary and ideas, and that's not an inherently bad or valueless thing; I just failed to engage with it.
Anyway, the thing that actually grated on me more than anything was Popkey's writing. This book is largely told in chunks of dialogue; characters relaying monologues to the narrator. I found that Popkey attempted to imitate the features of verbal speech in a way that came across to me as forced and labored; it was peak stylized MFA-prose. "Her hair was down and her cheeks were stiff and pink from smiling and the freckles on her neck, down her forearms, dotting her ankles, they were shining, they were giving off some kind of heat, she was glowing."
Again, I don't think this was a bad book, and if it interests you, I'd definitely encourage you to pick it up; it just wasn't what I was looking for and I found it rather unremarkable at the end of the day.
The Rachel Cusk comparisons are a dime a dozen, and I will spare you from that seeing as I've never read Rachel Cusk; I will instead address the Sally Rooney comparisons. Both authors interrogate themes on womanhood, sex, sexuality, and give voice to a subset of young women who may have never seen these topics addressed so starkly in fiction. But for me the difference between these two authors lies in the fact that Rooney explores themes through character, and Popkey explores themes at the expense of character. The aptly unnamed narrator of Topics of Conversation feels like a prototype of Generic Young Woman Angst - maybe that's the point, maybe not - but her struggles all felt very Grand and Societal without being grounded in the microcosm enough to hold my interest. Basically: this is a book of commentary and ideas, and that's not an inherently bad or valueless thing; I just failed to engage with it.
Anyway, the thing that actually grated on me more than anything was Popkey's writing. This book is largely told in chunks of dialogue; characters relaying monologues to the narrator. I found that Popkey attempted to imitate the features of verbal speech in a way that came across to me as forced and labored; it was peak stylized MFA-prose. "Her hair was down and her cheeks were stiff and pink from smiling and the freckles on her neck, down her forearms, dotting her ankles, they were shining, they were giving off some kind of heat, she was glowing."
Again, I don't think this was a bad book, and if it interests you, I'd definitely encourage you to pick it up; it just wasn't what I was looking for and I found it rather unremarkable at the end of the day.
March 11, 2020
2.5, rounded down.
I have to say, the really low ratings on this book here on GR are probably the result of a really stupid marketing ploy that backfired- when you compare a so-so debut work to the likes of Cusk, Rooney, Davis and Offill ... and then utterly fail to deliver anything close to that, naturally people are going to be mad and react accordingly. Aside from that, Popkey, much like her surely autobiographical protagonist, suffers from delusions of grandeur herself - when her character asserts she's always the smartest person in the room, you roll your eyes and say, "then why do you sound like Regina George from Mean Girls?"
Her longwinded, convoluted sentences, with their tortured syntax (g-d help anyone trying to diagram these sentences!), do not denote intelligence or profundity as much as solipsistic navel-gazing. And it's difficult to champion a heroine who is both intrinsically unlikeable and such a hot mess (she spends the bulk of the novel drunk and being a horrible mother). And the fact that almost every female character flirts with lesbianism is just so much pretentious trendy pandering. The author shows promise at points - but she has a long way to go to reach the pantheon of the writers she (and/or her marketing team) invokes.
I have to say, the really low ratings on this book here on GR are probably the result of a really stupid marketing ploy that backfired- when you compare a so-so debut work to the likes of Cusk, Rooney, Davis and Offill ... and then utterly fail to deliver anything close to that, naturally people are going to be mad and react accordingly. Aside from that, Popkey, much like her surely autobiographical protagonist, suffers from delusions of grandeur herself - when her character asserts she's always the smartest person in the room, you roll your eyes and say, "then why do you sound like Regina George from Mean Girls?"
Her longwinded, convoluted sentences, with their tortured syntax (g-d help anyone trying to diagram these sentences!), do not denote intelligence or profundity as much as solipsistic navel-gazing. And it's difficult to champion a heroine who is both intrinsically unlikeable and such a hot mess (she spends the bulk of the novel drunk and being a horrible mother). And the fact that almost every female character flirts with lesbianism is just so much pretentious trendy pandering. The author shows promise at points - but she has a long way to go to reach the pantheon of the writers she (and/or her marketing team) invokes.
January 16, 2020
“There is, below the surface of every conversation in which intimacies are shared, an erotic current. Sometimes this current is so hot it all but boils and other times it’s barely lukewarm, hardly noticeable, but always the current is present, if only you plunge your hands in just an inch or two farther down in the water. This is regardless of the gender of the people involved, of their sexual orientations. This is the natural outcome of disclosure, for to disclose is to reveal, to bring out into the open what was previously hidden. And that unwrapping, that denuding, is always, inevitably sensual.” — Topics of Conversation, Miranda Popkey
Miranda Popkey's debut novel Topics of Conversation poignantly articulates just how lonesome the coming-of-age journey can be for a woman. The story starts with the introduction of an unnamed female speaker who, across 20 years, outlines her existential quest to marriage, divorce, and motherhood through an expedition of heart-to-hearts with people she encounters along the way. Each chapter is a new episode of her experience, landmarked by place and time and discussion, and as Popkey’s roaming narrator exits one life, she enters another, rendering the reader a spectator to the heart-stabbing epiphanies that call her back down to earth.
In Italy, she offers an ear to her friend’s mother as she ashes away the veil of her unhappy marriage and Ann Arbor imperils the terrifying ease by which attractive white men become predators overnight. Though it is Los Angeles, the bedrock for the book, that unlocks the myth of true love as something rehearsed, of intimacy as illusion, and where our speaker’s self-medicated slip into melancholia begins. Depression becomes the safe stupor to which she absconds after squandering her marriage, but it is the way shame helms her poignant reawakening that sets Popkey ahead of her class as one of the most perceptive voices to strike the page.
With Topics of Conversation, Popkey weaves a gossamer of light and conviction for any woman lost in the throes of shame and uncertainty. I took this book with me everywhere. Each chapter has been inked, dogeared, coffee-stained; all signs of real love. There were so many bits in this story I know others will find as fascinating as I had: the woman recounting Norman Mailer’s abuse of his wife; the one-night affair our heroine spends with the sophisticated sadist in that San Francisco hotel; the union of mothers pouring with testimonies of moments that culminated in the left turn of their lives. What’s more to admire about Popkey’s way with style is the colloquial cadence she uses to pace her prose, peppering the narrative with pauses and ruminations without sparing that acerbic sincerity we millennials hate to love.
Topics of Conversation is an unputdownable anthem about the pains of self-discovery, of facing the fear of one’s reflection, and the embarrassment of laying claim to unspeakable desires. Halle Butler and Catherine Lacey lovers, this one is for you.
(Thanks, Knopf friends, for sending me Popkey's debut before it releases in January.)
If you liked my review, feel free to follow me @parisperusing on Instagram.
Miranda Popkey's debut novel Topics of Conversation poignantly articulates just how lonesome the coming-of-age journey can be for a woman. The story starts with the introduction of an unnamed female speaker who, across 20 years, outlines her existential quest to marriage, divorce, and motherhood through an expedition of heart-to-hearts with people she encounters along the way. Each chapter is a new episode of her experience, landmarked by place and time and discussion, and as Popkey’s roaming narrator exits one life, she enters another, rendering the reader a spectator to the heart-stabbing epiphanies that call her back down to earth.
In Italy, she offers an ear to her friend’s mother as she ashes away the veil of her unhappy marriage and Ann Arbor imperils the terrifying ease by which attractive white men become predators overnight. Though it is Los Angeles, the bedrock for the book, that unlocks the myth of true love as something rehearsed, of intimacy as illusion, and where our speaker’s self-medicated slip into melancholia begins. Depression becomes the safe stupor to which she absconds after squandering her marriage, but it is the way shame helms her poignant reawakening that sets Popkey ahead of her class as one of the most perceptive voices to strike the page.
With Topics of Conversation, Popkey weaves a gossamer of light and conviction for any woman lost in the throes of shame and uncertainty. I took this book with me everywhere. Each chapter has been inked, dogeared, coffee-stained; all signs of real love. There were so many bits in this story I know others will find as fascinating as I had: the woman recounting Norman Mailer’s abuse of his wife; the one-night affair our heroine spends with the sophisticated sadist in that San Francisco hotel; the union of mothers pouring with testimonies of moments that culminated in the left turn of their lives. What’s more to admire about Popkey’s way with style is the colloquial cadence she uses to pace her prose, peppering the narrative with pauses and ruminations without sparing that acerbic sincerity we millennials hate to love.
Topics of Conversation is an unputdownable anthem about the pains of self-discovery, of facing the fear of one’s reflection, and the embarrassment of laying claim to unspeakable desires. Halle Butler and Catherine Lacey lovers, this one is for you.
(Thanks, Knopf friends, for sending me Popkey's debut before it releases in January.)
If you liked my review, feel free to follow me @parisperusing on Instagram.
February 6, 2020
I finished this novel (which is actually just a collection of inane MFA short stories about ”bad women”) two weeks ago, and it was so forgettable, uninspiring, and blatantly derivative that I only just remembered to log it on Goodreads. Just go read Rachel Cusk instead.
July 30, 2021
“Topics is Conversations”, 224 pages, (a slim physical book I picked up at “The Friends of Saratoga Library”… a used gift-book-store as endearing as the wonderfully inexpensive prices are), - as part of an extended lunch date with a friend.
This novel is exactly as the title says: ‘conversations’ ….[perfect for readers who enjoy Rachel Cusk, or Sally Rooney]…..
This slim debut by Miranda Popkey are conversations almost exclusively by women…
exploring every topic under the sun….
women rivalries, women friendships, desires, loneliness, family, motherhood, divorce, coming-of-age, college, art, ambitions,
….judging and evaluating other women, degrading other women, by women….
woman’s beauty, clothes worn, body descriptions, women’s emotions, sex, romance, love, power, partying, pain, suffering, jealousies, sabotage, etc…
Through several short stories… (a narrator with no name - a women telling stories to explore her point of view—painting an overview visual of women—of all ages, shapes, and sizes—spans over twenty years.
Lots of drinking, smoking….
assumptions, admiration, trivializing, guilt, indulgent thoughts, innocence, righteousness, insecurities, and uncertainties….
It’s not a book for everyone…
There are plenty of low reviews….(complaints of the narrator not being likable… and too much general rambling)
But I enjoyed my time with the intimate conversations that were being explored.
Perhaps a little obsessive…a little salacious….but I found the shrewd meticulous gossipy details to be rather appealing. (ha, my life is so dull by comparison)…
It’s a quick read….
with a book cover, itself, that conquers up thoughts.
Even touching the smooth-silky book cover, has an emotional life of its own.
I look forward to reading Miranda Popkey again
This novel is exactly as the title says: ‘conversations’ ….[perfect for readers who enjoy Rachel Cusk, or Sally Rooney]…..
This slim debut by Miranda Popkey are conversations almost exclusively by women…
exploring every topic under the sun….
women rivalries, women friendships, desires, loneliness, family, motherhood, divorce, coming-of-age, college, art, ambitions,
….judging and evaluating other women, degrading other women, by women….
woman’s beauty, clothes worn, body descriptions, women’s emotions, sex, romance, love, power, partying, pain, suffering, jealousies, sabotage, etc…
Through several short stories… (a narrator with no name - a women telling stories to explore her point of view—painting an overview visual of women—of all ages, shapes, and sizes—spans over twenty years.
Lots of drinking, smoking….
assumptions, admiration, trivializing, guilt, indulgent thoughts, innocence, righteousness, insecurities, and uncertainties….
It’s not a book for everyone…
There are plenty of low reviews….(complaints of the narrator not being likable… and too much general rambling)
But I enjoyed my time with the intimate conversations that were being explored.
Perhaps a little obsessive…a little salacious….but I found the shrewd meticulous gossipy details to be rather appealing. (ha, my life is so dull by comparison)…
It’s a quick read….
with a book cover, itself, that conquers up thoughts.
Even touching the smooth-silky book cover, has an emotional life of its own.
I look forward to reading Miranda Popkey again
January 21, 2020
Miranda Popkey's
Topics of Conversation
is a novel of commentary on issues about gender, sex, and violence, framed as conversations.
I’m going to call this review a #maybeitsmenotyou review. I read a lot, as many of you know, and I feel like I “get” themes and issues and situations even if I can’t personally identify with them. But every so often a book comes along and it doesn’t work for me and I wonder if maybe it’s because I can’t identify with the characters or subject matter.
I’m going to say this is definitely one of those books.
An unnamed narrator has a series of conversations with different people at different stages of her life over a period of 20 years or so. These conversations are about relationships, sex, sexual violence, infidelity, and the inequities between genders. They're with friends, colleagues, lovers, spouses, strangers, fellow students. In each separate story/conversation, it appears the narrator is hungering for something more.
The topics that Popkey presents here are important, thought-provoking topics. Perhaps in another person’s hands this book might really resonate but for me it missed the mark. I struggled in many cases with the long-windedness of her characters as well.
I have seen some very positive reviews of this book from both women and men, so perhaps #itsjustme. If this interests you I do hope you enjoy it!
Check out my list of the best books I read in 2019 at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-best-books-i-read-in-2019.html.
Check out my list of the best books of the decade at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-favorite-books-of-decade.html.
See all of my reviews at itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com.
Follow me on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/the.bookishworld.of.yrralh/.
I’m going to call this review a #maybeitsmenotyou review. I read a lot, as many of you know, and I feel like I “get” themes and issues and situations even if I can’t personally identify with them. But every so often a book comes along and it doesn’t work for me and I wonder if maybe it’s because I can’t identify with the characters or subject matter.
I’m going to say this is definitely one of those books.
An unnamed narrator has a series of conversations with different people at different stages of her life over a period of 20 years or so. These conversations are about relationships, sex, sexual violence, infidelity, and the inequities between genders. They're with friends, colleagues, lovers, spouses, strangers, fellow students. In each separate story/conversation, it appears the narrator is hungering for something more.
The topics that Popkey presents here are important, thought-provoking topics. Perhaps in another person’s hands this book might really resonate but for me it missed the mark. I struggled in many cases with the long-windedness of her characters as well.
I have seen some very positive reviews of this book from both women and men, so perhaps #itsjustme. If this interests you I do hope you enjoy it!
Check out my list of the best books I read in 2019 at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-best-books-i-read-in-2019.html.
Check out my list of the best books of the decade at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-favorite-books-of-decade.html.
See all of my reviews at itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com.
Follow me on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/the.bookishworld.of.yrralh/.
May 26, 2020
Ugh. I so wanted to love this one. And maybe it’s just above me. But I was truly bored to tears. I made myself push through and finish since it’s only 202 pages but ugh. The writing especially in the first story was so hard to focus on as it was one long, backtracking, run-on sentence after another. A lot of people clearly enjoyed this, but it was not for me.
January 29, 2020
Intelligent and thought-provoking, painful and disquieting, angry but with a touch of dark humor - there are many more descriptions that I could apply to Topics of Conversation, Miranda Popkey’s debut novel. Impressive will certainly do, to keep it simple. I was impressed.
There have been many comparisons to authors such as Rachel Cusk, Sally Rooney and Jenny Offill. I have yet to read a review that doesn’t make these comparisons. They are fair and may provide a helpful guideline for curious readers. However, despite these comparisons, Popkey possesses her own style and unique voice, fearless and personal. I am eager and curious to read what she does next.
There have been many comparisons to authors such as Rachel Cusk, Sally Rooney and Jenny Offill. I have yet to read a review that doesn’t make these comparisons. They are fair and may provide a helpful guideline for curious readers. However, despite these comparisons, Popkey possesses her own style and unique voice, fearless and personal. I am eager and curious to read what she does next.
January 12, 2020
This book bored me to tears. It really has no plot-it’s just a series of short stories taken from an unnamed narrator’s life, like a bunch of snapshots. The writing style wasn’t for me. At least it only took me an hour or so to read.
December 1, 2019
Originally published on The Nerd Daily | Review by Beth Mowbray
Reading the synopsis alone for Topics of Conversation evokes a powerful set of emotions. Take a look: “Miranda Popkey writes of desire, disgust, motherhood, loneliness, art, pain, feminism, anger, envy, and guilt … composed almost exclusively of conversations between women—the stories they tell each other, and the stories they tell themselves, about shame and love, infidelity and self-sabotage …” Stunning, right?
This novel opens with an unnamed female narrator in Italy. The year is 2000, she has just completed her undergraduate program in English and after the summer, she will begin a graduate program studying the same. In the meantime, however, she enjoys reading the journals of Sylvia Plath and discussing affairs with older professors alongside the mother of the children she babysits. If that doesn’t set a mood, then what does?
Popkey’s story then unfolds across two decades, each chapter a different time and place, a different life experience, a different conversation. Throughout these scenes, the narrator winds her way through life in a way which rings true to the female experience while also commenting on the inherent struggles. She goes to graduate school, moving out into the world in an attempt to define her life beyond. She navigates a marriage which turns into a sense of being trapped, feeling lost in her own life. She shares friendships that come and go, infatuations with the lives of others. And she attempts to bond with her mother, as well as with other mothers, while still desperately trying to maintain her own sense of self. Or even figure out what that might be.
Topics of Conversation is not just about these vignettes, though—it is also about the type of people who live within them. Many themes thread their way throughout and identity is arguably the foundation of this text. Popkey deftly explores the way women learn to “be” in the world. The way expectations are both overtly and subtly modelled by others. The way one blindly picks up on these influences and, in turn, models them in their own life, denies them, or fights against them.
Popkey also speaks broadly to patterns of intimacy and control in romantic and sexual relationships. Most strikingly on display are the traditional power dynamics and ways in which men attempt to “keep” their women: through jealousy, envy, fathering them, promising them the world, and retracting such promises. She exposes the masculine desire for control which springs not from their power, but from the lack thereof. She confronts the standard constructs of women being raised to believe they shouldn’t desire or enjoy sex. And what it means, how others react, if they do. The concept of women being judged with a double-standard, judged for doing the same things men have always done, is not new after all.
What is perhaps most interesting, though, is how Popkey then turns this idea on its head and speaks to that which often goes unspoken: The uncontrollable desire to be controlled. The relief of not having to make decisions for oneself. And the guilt, the shame, in having such desires. The reader is exposed to the results of both accepting and challenging the traditional power dynamic. How self-esteem (or the lack thereof) and the innate desire for approval drive one’s actions and choices. The narrator very directly describes herself as a “monster”—she feels anger and disgust toward herself, feels unlovable. In many ways this connects back to the issue of control, as she takes comfort in being told what to do, does not easily embrace kindness, and often does not appear comfortable with being treated well.
Throughout the novel the narrator always appears to be thinking of the “better” story, imagining how she might make her life more exciting. Feeling like she is missing something, wanting more. Maybe the narrator would have made different choices, in hindsight, as many would. It may be that she regrets the many points where she could have done something different, but did not. Perhaps this comes from a discomfort in our society with women actually expressing what they want. The same rules do not necessarily apply, however, within same sex relationships and Popkey also explores this intimacy. Not a sexual intimacy, although there is an underlying current of the erotic in some of these platonic relationships, but rather the intimacy created by sharing secrets, building a bond, and understanding one another through shared experiences.
The honesty and depth of the narrator’s story speaks broadly to the female experience, particularly expected gender roles and preconceived notions of sex and relationships. With a candor seldom seen, Topics of Conversation explores how these “norms” are internalized and challenges them in ways both subtle and overt, serious and exaggerated. Miranda Popkey has a voice that is witty and biting—you won’t want to miss this debut. It may just be one of my favourite releases for 2020!
Reading the synopsis alone for Topics of Conversation evokes a powerful set of emotions. Take a look: “Miranda Popkey writes of desire, disgust, motherhood, loneliness, art, pain, feminism, anger, envy, and guilt … composed almost exclusively of conversations between women—the stories they tell each other, and the stories they tell themselves, about shame and love, infidelity and self-sabotage …” Stunning, right?
This novel opens with an unnamed female narrator in Italy. The year is 2000, she has just completed her undergraduate program in English and after the summer, she will begin a graduate program studying the same. In the meantime, however, she enjoys reading the journals of Sylvia Plath and discussing affairs with older professors alongside the mother of the children she babysits. If that doesn’t set a mood, then what does?
Popkey’s story then unfolds across two decades, each chapter a different time and place, a different life experience, a different conversation. Throughout these scenes, the narrator winds her way through life in a way which rings true to the female experience while also commenting on the inherent struggles. She goes to graduate school, moving out into the world in an attempt to define her life beyond. She navigates a marriage which turns into a sense of being trapped, feeling lost in her own life. She shares friendships that come and go, infatuations with the lives of others. And she attempts to bond with her mother, as well as with other mothers, while still desperately trying to maintain her own sense of self. Or even figure out what that might be.
Topics of Conversation is not just about these vignettes, though—it is also about the type of people who live within them. Many themes thread their way throughout and identity is arguably the foundation of this text. Popkey deftly explores the way women learn to “be” in the world. The way expectations are both overtly and subtly modelled by others. The way one blindly picks up on these influences and, in turn, models them in their own life, denies them, or fights against them.
Popkey also speaks broadly to patterns of intimacy and control in romantic and sexual relationships. Most strikingly on display are the traditional power dynamics and ways in which men attempt to “keep” their women: through jealousy, envy, fathering them, promising them the world, and retracting such promises. She exposes the masculine desire for control which springs not from their power, but from the lack thereof. She confronts the standard constructs of women being raised to believe they shouldn’t desire or enjoy sex. And what it means, how others react, if they do. The concept of women being judged with a double-standard, judged for doing the same things men have always done, is not new after all.
What is perhaps most interesting, though, is how Popkey then turns this idea on its head and speaks to that which often goes unspoken: The uncontrollable desire to be controlled. The relief of not having to make decisions for oneself. And the guilt, the shame, in having such desires. The reader is exposed to the results of both accepting and challenging the traditional power dynamic. How self-esteem (or the lack thereof) and the innate desire for approval drive one’s actions and choices. The narrator very directly describes herself as a “monster”—she feels anger and disgust toward herself, feels unlovable. In many ways this connects back to the issue of control, as she takes comfort in being told what to do, does not easily embrace kindness, and often does not appear comfortable with being treated well.
Throughout the novel the narrator always appears to be thinking of the “better” story, imagining how she might make her life more exciting. Feeling like she is missing something, wanting more. Maybe the narrator would have made different choices, in hindsight, as many would. It may be that she regrets the many points where she could have done something different, but did not. Perhaps this comes from a discomfort in our society with women actually expressing what they want. The same rules do not necessarily apply, however, within same sex relationships and Popkey also explores this intimacy. Not a sexual intimacy, although there is an underlying current of the erotic in some of these platonic relationships, but rather the intimacy created by sharing secrets, building a bond, and understanding one another through shared experiences.
The honesty and depth of the narrator’s story speaks broadly to the female experience, particularly expected gender roles and preconceived notions of sex and relationships. With a candor seldom seen, Topics of Conversation explores how these “norms” are internalized and challenges them in ways both subtle and overt, serious and exaggerated. Miranda Popkey has a voice that is witty and biting—you won’t want to miss this debut. It may just be one of my favourite releases for 2020!
November 11, 2019
Remember the name Miranda Popkey right now. Her debut book “topics of conversation” comes out in January and it is one you will not want to miss. I was reminded of Sally Rooney and Melissa Broder but a little more intellectual and grown up. Not taking away from either of those two women and their ability to write a great novel that I enjoy but Popkey is the real deal. Smart, innovative, and brutally honest about tough subjects. Mainly focused on the normalization of women’s sexuality and how gender plays a roll in our society and how it dictates the way desire, disgust, and carnal relationships are viewed, unequally.
.
Topics of conversation almost reads like a series of short stories taking place over a twenty year period while an unnamed woman has, well, conversations with other women. Touching on subjects of their infidelity and their self loathing, their loneliness and their pain, their love and guilt. From late nights on a beach with an older woman, to the lingering people still drinking late into the night after a party Popkey uses an eclectic set of women to serve as supporting actors in this one woman’s life varying in age and relationship stages, all speaking their truths like they were best friends catching up over a glass of wine.
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The one thing that set this book apart for me was the enthralling writing, the way she uses dialogue is on par with some of the greats, this was not particularly a page turning eruption of a read, it was an intimate and erotic work of sophistication that kept me intrigued from the opening page of reading Sylvia Plath on an exotic beach to the very last line that lingers with you. With strong resemblances to Rachel Cusk and Jenny Offill, Miranda Popkey is going to be a superstar, and you can quote me on that. In two months time this book will be flooding your feed, and well into the summer of 2020 and beyond. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
.
Topics of conversation almost reads like a series of short stories taking place over a twenty year period while an unnamed woman has, well, conversations with other women. Touching on subjects of their infidelity and their self loathing, their loneliness and their pain, their love and guilt. From late nights on a beach with an older woman, to the lingering people still drinking late into the night after a party Popkey uses an eclectic set of women to serve as supporting actors in this one woman’s life varying in age and relationship stages, all speaking their truths like they were best friends catching up over a glass of wine.
.
The one thing that set this book apart for me was the enthralling writing, the way she uses dialogue is on par with some of the greats, this was not particularly a page turning eruption of a read, it was an intimate and erotic work of sophistication that kept me intrigued from the opening page of reading Sylvia Plath on an exotic beach to the very last line that lingers with you. With strong resemblances to Rachel Cusk and Jenny Offill, Miranda Popkey is going to be a superstar, and you can quote me on that. In two months time this book will be flooding your feed, and well into the summer of 2020 and beyond. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
January 14, 2020
Sooo disappointed in Book of the Month (BOTM).
January 14, 2020
I’m sorry, but I can’t stand this book. Hate to say that, but it’s the cold truth. DNF at 108. I wanted to like it so bad, but I just can’t. I don’t think I enjoyed any part of it, and the best description I can give is: it sucks.
For starters, I hate the structure. It’s filled with run-on sentences and odd grammar. I mean, I get it (I think); it’s written like you were talking to yourself in your head, or at least that’s how I’m interpreting it. But it’s not adding anything to the story. It’s not artistic, it’s annoying. If it was written in proper grammar, it wouldn’t have ruined the intended effect. It probably would have made the book actually make more sense. Not for me, not with this subject matter.
Also, maybe I’ve met far too many trash people in my life, but I wasn’t overly shocked at any of the brutal honesty or so-called intimacy in this book. I will say: there was one chapter, one scene, where the narrator is so brutally honest with another man in a hotel room, and that was the only part I thought was actually good. I think it was a self awareness that would resonate with a lot of people in that situation. Don’t want to reveal anything about it, but you’d know it when you got to it. However, don’t read this book just for that. Maybe the good stuff was closer to the end, but if I read half your book and I’m miserable, you’ve lost your chance. I didn’t think it was profound or poignant or any other pretentious descriptor. It’s a woman who’s met some other men and women, some of them trash, some a mess. Now I enjoy a good mess in my reading sometimes but with this book, I was like please get it together. Your mess is not cute.
I was just bored reading this. Bored and disappointed. I didn’t find the writing style or subject matter impressive or highly thoughtful at all. I found myself thinking I couldn’t wait for this reading experience to be over, clearly not enjoying myself, so I just put it down. Maybe I don’t get it, maybe I’m not appreciating it, call it what you will, but it’s probably one of the worst books I’ve ever read.
For starters, I hate the structure. It’s filled with run-on sentences and odd grammar. I mean, I get it (I think); it’s written like you were talking to yourself in your head, or at least that’s how I’m interpreting it. But it’s not adding anything to the story. It’s not artistic, it’s annoying. If it was written in proper grammar, it wouldn’t have ruined the intended effect. It probably would have made the book actually make more sense. Not for me, not with this subject matter.
Also, maybe I’ve met far too many trash people in my life, but I wasn’t overly shocked at any of the brutal honesty or so-called intimacy in this book. I will say: there was one chapter, one scene, where the narrator is so brutally honest with another man in a hotel room, and that was the only part I thought was actually good. I think it was a self awareness that would resonate with a lot of people in that situation. Don’t want to reveal anything about it, but you’d know it when you got to it. However, don’t read this book just for that. Maybe the good stuff was closer to the end, but if I read half your book and I’m miserable, you’ve lost your chance. I didn’t think it was profound or poignant or any other pretentious descriptor. It’s a woman who’s met some other men and women, some of them trash, some a mess. Now I enjoy a good mess in my reading sometimes but with this book, I was like please get it together. Your mess is not cute.
I was just bored reading this. Bored and disappointed. I didn’t find the writing style or subject matter impressive or highly thoughtful at all. I found myself thinking I couldn’t wait for this reading experience to be over, clearly not enjoying myself, so I just put it down. Maybe I don’t get it, maybe I’m not appreciating it, call it what you will, but it’s probably one of the worst books I’ve ever read.
March 21, 2020
[Still going to re-read this closer to publication, but I want to get some initial thoughts up before the year is out!]
I can see this being one of the big reads of 2020 - Miranda Popkey's novel stands up on its own merits, but for purposes of comparison I'd agree with the Goodreads blurb which recommends it for readers of Rachel Cusk and Jenny Offill, though at times I was reminded of the clarity in Sally Rooney's writing as well.
The story follows an unnamed woman over the course of 15 years through the various conversations she has with different women she encounters - much like Cusk's Outline trilogy, these conversations range widely in content but each of them brings the reader somewhere closer to understanding the nature of humans and one's self, relationships, motherhood, shame and desire, and what it means to be a woman dealing with each of these things. I think the blurb sums things up pretty well: "What is the shape of a life? Is it the things that happen to us? Or is it the stories we tell about the things that happen to us?". Recommended!
Thank you Netgalley and Serpent's Tail/Profile Books for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
I can see this being one of the big reads of 2020 - Miranda Popkey's novel stands up on its own merits, but for purposes of comparison I'd agree with the Goodreads blurb which recommends it for readers of Rachel Cusk and Jenny Offill, though at times I was reminded of the clarity in Sally Rooney's writing as well.
The story follows an unnamed woman over the course of 15 years through the various conversations she has with different women she encounters - much like Cusk's Outline trilogy, these conversations range widely in content but each of them brings the reader somewhere closer to understanding the nature of humans and one's self, relationships, motherhood, shame and desire, and what it means to be a woman dealing with each of these things. I think the blurb sums things up pretty well: "What is the shape of a life? Is it the things that happen to us? Or is it the stories we tell about the things that happen to us?". Recommended!
Thank you Netgalley and Serpent's Tail/Profile Books for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
February 7, 2020
I swore I was not going to mention Rachel Cusk in my review because everyone else already has, but she really is the only frame of reference if you want an idea of Popkey’s style. Popkey has a darker, more subversive, sensibility than Cusk’s that I am interested to see how she develops as she continues her career. 3.5 rounded up.
January 23, 2020
I loved this book. Beautifully written. Raw and magnetic. There is an undercurrent of desire running through every sentence. Highly recommend for readers who enjoy novels that are a little more lyrical/experimental/unusual.
Read
January 14, 2020🙄
y’all really tried it with hyping this book up...
this book has... so many words... without really saying anything at all. it’s like, a movie that a first year male film student raves about and then you watch it and you’re like, the fuck? so he goes in detail regurgitating bullshit to you and then you die of boredom.
it wasn’t until Los Angeles, 2012 that I really started getting annoyed and realized that people just don’t talk like this!! every single character, or “topic of conversation”, is just completely aloof, rambles on without any regard to the people listening. our unnamed protagonist seems to be the only who cares what these people are saying that I can’t help but wonder if they’re all just figments of her imagination.
and our protagonist sucks! she hates everyone for no reason. this quote about her mother especially stood out: “what I hate about the flowers is that they are an example of the many ways in which my mother extends her kindness also to herself” 😬
on the flip side, there’s another quote from the beginning that I did like: “isn’t that the test of love? The test of intimacy? The willingness to be cruel and the belief that, the moment of cruelty passed, the love, the intimacy, remains, undamaged?” I think if anything, this is one thing that Miranda Popkey actually gets right about relationships. we tend to be the most critical (if not cruel) of those who are closest to us, and it is only that closeness and that love that allows us to do this.
I could really go in on the things that Popkey gets wrong about relationships, but I’ve wasted enough time on this book as it is!
y’all really tried it with hyping this book up...
this book has... so many words... without really saying anything at all. it’s like, a movie that a first year male film student raves about and then you watch it and you’re like, the fuck? so he goes in detail regurgitating bullshit to you and then you die of boredom.
it wasn’t until Los Angeles, 2012 that I really started getting annoyed and realized that people just don’t talk like this!! every single character, or “topic of conversation”, is just completely aloof, rambles on without any regard to the people listening. our unnamed protagonist seems to be the only who cares what these people are saying that I can’t help but wonder if they’re all just figments of her imagination.
and our protagonist sucks! she hates everyone for no reason. this quote about her mother especially stood out: “what I hate about the flowers is that they are an example of the many ways in which my mother extends her kindness also to herself” 😬
on the flip side, there’s another quote from the beginning that I did like: “isn’t that the test of love? The test of intimacy? The willingness to be cruel and the belief that, the moment of cruelty passed, the love, the intimacy, remains, undamaged?” I think if anything, this is one thing that Miranda Popkey actually gets right about relationships. we tend to be the most critical (if not cruel) of those who are closest to us, and it is only that closeness and that love that allows us to do this.
I could really go in on the things that Popkey gets wrong about relationships, but I’ve wasted enough time on this book as it is!
January 13, 2020
Even though I'm feeling sick, I had to finish this book tonight. This novel did it for me. There was something compulsive and addictive about it; I felt like I had to devour it. Some of the themes horrified me, stimulated me, enraptured me; made me wince or nod my head begrudgingly while thinking my, my, myyyy. This book shouldn't have worked for me, but it did, it really did. I'm definitely going to write a full review once I stop feeling feverish (from the sickness and/or maybe even from my gushing for this novel).
March 28, 2020
This was an interesting look at sexual and relationship experiences among women. The narrator records conversations with various women over a 20 year period, but there is little diversity in the types of women or the types of experiences. The narrator seems self-obsessed, but the author seemed to be aware of that. Intentional? Maybe, but I’m not sure to what end. This is often smart and insightful, but the writing style is very fragmented.
February 29, 2020
Miranda Popkey's Topics of Conversation is a pretentious wax poetic novel written in a painfully dull manner.
The book's interesting-sounding premise is supposedly a "dive into a woman's most intimate thoughts" through only conversations. Unfortunately, this is quite tedious in execution primarily because of the insufferable writing style. I usually enjoy literary works, so I was not scared away when others called Topics of Conversation pretentious or too cerebral, but this novel is not literary, instead, very MFA-ey. The writing style is very verbose, full of strange non sequiturs, run-on sentences, and fragments. For example, a sentence from the novel typical of the overall style is:
Huh?! This irrelevant quote shows up in one of the more compelling chapters that discussed consent. So while a few of the "topics of conversations" (i.e., consent, desire, power, infidelity) were even engaging, the rambling, self-indulgent, and distracting writing took away from each subject "explored". Topics of Conversation is only around two hundred pages, but it felt twice as long because of the writing. I took very little away from the book, even though I know there were weighty points buried somewhere in it. Instead, I spent most of my focus deciphering what was going on and who was talking.
Unfortunately, most of Topics of Conversation was immediately forgotten because of the unrealistic "conversation" style.
The book's interesting-sounding premise is supposedly a "dive into a woman's most intimate thoughts" through only conversations. Unfortunately, this is quite tedious in execution primarily because of the insufferable writing style. I usually enjoy literary works, so I was not scared away when others called Topics of Conversation pretentious or too cerebral, but this novel is not literary, instead, very MFA-ey. The writing style is very verbose, full of strange non sequiturs, run-on sentences, and fragments. For example, a sentence from the novel typical of the overall style is:
"I didn't know her that well, this ten-ant, this not-girl, this woman, but she was slightly older and very beautiful and she carried herself like she was one body, a whole, not a collection of dis-jointed limbs, and for this reason I believed her to be very intelligent and I was in awe of her and a little bit in love with her and also I loathed her, not furiously or passionately but attentively, careful to keep the flame of— it wasn't quite hatred; something closer to envy, something tinged with lust— anyway, whatever flame I was nurturing I was nurturing it with care, so that, on this night as on all nights, it was burning fierce."
Huh?! This irrelevant quote shows up in one of the more compelling chapters that discussed consent. So while a few of the "topics of conversations" (i.e., consent, desire, power, infidelity) were even engaging, the rambling, self-indulgent, and distracting writing took away from each subject "explored". Topics of Conversation is only around two hundred pages, but it felt twice as long because of the writing. I took very little away from the book, even though I know there were weighty points buried somewhere in it. Instead, I spent most of my focus deciphering what was going on and who was talking.
Unfortunately, most of Topics of Conversation was immediately forgotten because of the unrealistic "conversation" style.
July 7, 2020
The contemporary wave of white women's autofiction/stream-of-consciousness writing that reflects critically on patriarchy but no other facet of oppression is not the end-all and be-all of literature and we should all collectively do ourselves a favour and admit that. Popkey's characters manage to say so much, and yet, so very little. To paraphrase Roxy Music, there must be more than this.
June 1, 2020
Topics of Conversation follows the conversations between a woman who is never named and the people she meets throughout the span of her life. The book focuses on conversations mainly between women, about identity, shame, desire, sex and love.
It took me a little while to figure out how I truly felt about this book. And in the end, although I don’t think it is a perfect book, I did enjoy reading it. There were times I felt like the conversations between characters went on forever, so at times I felt lost in all of the speech. I also felt like because there was so much speech, there was always an effort to break up the big paragraphs of talking with actions, which almost always felt repetitive after a few pages. I mean, the amount of cigarettes that were smoked throughout one conversation that happened in the book. I lost count. However, I think the conversations that were discussed were so interesting, because they were mainly between women, so it was women discussing subjects and taking ownership of their own views and experiences with sex and the kind of shame that is thrust open women for admitting that they enjoy sex. I do have to say though that the ending felt really abrupt to me but then I don’t really know how I would have wanted this book to end because it wasn’t really told like a traditional story.
One of the most interesting things about this book is its protagonist, because she’s so hard to swallow. But one of the things I appreciate most is that the author never tries to make you like or pity the main character. She is just presented how she is, and although she was not the nicest, she was the most interesting with how she viewed the world. Watching her develop throughout the years, you get the sense that she sort of self-sabotages her life several times, and also that there’s some underlying feelings of shame in the way she views herself and her experiences with sex. And I feel like those were never really explained or developed enough fully, they were just sort of there. But I liked that approach. That the author never really makes this character go on a journey that changes herself. It’s just recounting conversations she’s had with people throughout her life.
Overall, despite feeling at times that this book dragged, I enjoyed Topics of Conversation mainly because the nameless narrator is so interesting. Do I think this is a book I’ll ever reread? No. But is it a book I’ll remember? Maybe.
“Remarkable how hard it is for women to admit they’re angry. Not annoyed or upset or irked or miffed or any sentiment that might be captured in a text message that ends in a series of exasperated question marks. Angry.”
It took me a little while to figure out how I truly felt about this book. And in the end, although I don’t think it is a perfect book, I did enjoy reading it. There were times I felt like the conversations between characters went on forever, so at times I felt lost in all of the speech. I also felt like because there was so much speech, there was always an effort to break up the big paragraphs of talking with actions, which almost always felt repetitive after a few pages. I mean, the amount of cigarettes that were smoked throughout one conversation that happened in the book. I lost count. However, I think the conversations that were discussed were so interesting, because they were mainly between women, so it was women discussing subjects and taking ownership of their own views and experiences with sex and the kind of shame that is thrust open women for admitting that they enjoy sex. I do have to say though that the ending felt really abrupt to me but then I don’t really know how I would have wanted this book to end because it wasn’t really told like a traditional story.
“There is, below the surface of every conversation in which intimacies are shared, an erotic current. Sometimes this current is so hot it all but boils and other times it’s barely lukewarm, hardly noticeable, but always the current is present, if only you plunge your hands just an inch or two farther down in the water. This is regardless of the gender of the people involved, of their sexual orientations. This is the natural outcome of disclosure, for to disclose is to reveal, to bring out into the open what was previously hidden. And that unwrapping, that denuding, is always, inevitably sensual. Nothing binds two people like sharing a secret.”
One of the most interesting things about this book is its protagonist, because she’s so hard to swallow. But one of the things I appreciate most is that the author never tries to make you like or pity the main character. She is just presented how she is, and although she was not the nicest, she was the most interesting with how she viewed the world. Watching her develop throughout the years, you get the sense that she sort of self-sabotages her life several times, and also that there’s some underlying feelings of shame in the way she views herself and her experiences with sex. And I feel like those were never really explained or developed enough fully, they were just sort of there. But I liked that approach. That the author never really makes this character go on a journey that changes herself. It’s just recounting conversations she’s had with people throughout her life.
“The point is, who cares about understanding why. The point is there is no reason. No one has a plan for you and your life doesn’t have a soundtrack, it’s just a series of”—she shrugged—“accidents and split-second decisions and coincidences and demographics, where you live and when you were born and who your parents were and how much money they had.”
Overall, despite feeling at times that this book dragged, I enjoyed Topics of Conversation mainly because the nameless narrator is so interesting. Do I think this is a book I’ll ever reread? No. But is it a book I’ll remember? Maybe.
January 18, 2020
I cannot adequately put into words how deeply disappointing and honestly upsetting this book was to me. Truly, the 4 and 5 star reviews have me completely baffled; maybe I missed the underlying message here, but this book, at its core, conveyed such a strong theme of hate and resentment that it truly disturbed me. The women throughout these pages were not inspiringly erotic or bravely feminist; rather, they were hate-filled, conceited, and apathetic characters devoid of any sort of intriguing depth. There’s something admirable about imperfect characters discovering their imperfections; this book is not that. I didn’t find these “topics of conversation” to be enlightening. I found these women to be terrible people; relishing in their hatred toward good-hearted men or their disgust at self-perceived normal, everyday life. I can’t, for the life of me, understand what the buzz is about in this book. The run-on sentences and chapters without quotations surrounding dialogue didn’t make this one any easier to read; definitely a book I should have DNF’d but didn’t.
March 1, 2020
“There is, below the surface of every conversation in which intimacies are shared, an erotic current. Sometimes this current is so hot it all but boils and other times it’s barely lukewarm, hardly noticeable, but always the current is present, if only you plunge your hands in just an inch or two farther down in the water. This is regardless of the gender of the people involved, of their sexual orientations. This is the natural outcome of disclosure, for to disclose is to reveal, to bring out into the open what was previously hidden. And that unwrapping, that denuding, is always, inevitably sensual.” — Miranda Popkey, Topics of Conversation
.
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Well, Miranda Popkey’s debut novel “Topics of Conversation” was an interesting read. Honestly, the main reason I chose it as one of my January Book of the Month selections was because I was curious. I was surprised that I liked it more than I had expected, but I did went in with ZERO expectation. However, I do want to put it out there, this isn’t going to be for everyone. I enjoyed it in bits here & there, but there were parts that bored me and had me questioning my choice. I highly recommend you read the reviews before picking up this book to get a better sense of what you’re getting into. In fact, the reviews may be more interesting than the book itself. After reading reader’s & book critics’ reviews, I find it even more interesting that there’s such a stark difference between the two. It’s like Susan Choi’s novels, majority of the readers didn’t like it so much, but the critics absolutely loves it. It had me thinking whom the intent audience was the novel written for. 🤔 After finishing the novel, I can see why it’s being compared to the likes of Sally Rooney, Rachel Cusk, Lydia Davis, and Jenny Offill; but there’s also touch of Ottessa Moshfegh in there. So if you love those authors, you’ll love this one.
.
Essentially, this novel is a commentary on issues about gender, sex, violence, power, motherhood, and relationships framed as a series of conversations between an unnamed narrator and other women. Spanning almost twenty years of the unnamed narrator’s life, each chapter centers around a conversation that took place with different people at different places at different stages of the narrator’s life. These conversations, wide-ranging in topic, but pertaining to women’s life, are about relationships, sex, sexual violence, infidelity, and the inequities & inequalities between genders. These conversations are with friends, colleagues, lovers, spouses, strangers, and fellow students. These conversations take place in different places at difference stages of the narrator’s life— in Ann Arbor, as a graduate student, in San Francisco, Los Angeles and other California cities, as twenty- & thirty-something navigating life, marriage, and work, then in San Joaquin Valley, as a divorced single mother. And some other cities in between all of these. So as you can tell, topics of each conversation changes & evolves as we witness the unnamed narrator going through different stages of life — from a recent college graduate to a divorced single mother, and everything in between.
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I don’t really have a conclusive opinion for this novel, but it was kind of like getting a glimpse into someone’s diary on female identity as it evolves over time. Some may call it, bold and provocative, some may say it’s boring and pretentious, it’s going to be a highly subjective matter. The writing style was bit hard to follow — sentences & paragraphs are very long, and novel has no concrete structure. And the conversation were redundant, unnamed narrator having the same conversation over and over again. Her sad point-of-view and self-deprecating words were really depressing at times. But I also think Popkey did a great job of capturing wide-range of female identity, emotions, and experiences as it evolves over time. Many of the topics covered were important, thought-provoking, and relatable to certain extent. Overall, most satisfying enough...Raw, honest, and painful mediation on female identity, self-discovery, and desires. 🤓✌️📖
.
.
Well, Miranda Popkey’s debut novel “Topics of Conversation” was an interesting read. Honestly, the main reason I chose it as one of my January Book of the Month selections was because I was curious. I was surprised that I liked it more than I had expected, but I did went in with ZERO expectation. However, I do want to put it out there, this isn’t going to be for everyone. I enjoyed it in bits here & there, but there were parts that bored me and had me questioning my choice. I highly recommend you read the reviews before picking up this book to get a better sense of what you’re getting into. In fact, the reviews may be more interesting than the book itself. After reading reader’s & book critics’ reviews, I find it even more interesting that there’s such a stark difference between the two. It’s like Susan Choi’s novels, majority of the readers didn’t like it so much, but the critics absolutely loves it. It had me thinking whom the intent audience was the novel written for. 🤔 After finishing the novel, I can see why it’s being compared to the likes of Sally Rooney, Rachel Cusk, Lydia Davis, and Jenny Offill; but there’s also touch of Ottessa Moshfegh in there. So if you love those authors, you’ll love this one.
.
Essentially, this novel is a commentary on issues about gender, sex, violence, power, motherhood, and relationships framed as a series of conversations between an unnamed narrator and other women. Spanning almost twenty years of the unnamed narrator’s life, each chapter centers around a conversation that took place with different people at different places at different stages of the narrator’s life. These conversations, wide-ranging in topic, but pertaining to women’s life, are about relationships, sex, sexual violence, infidelity, and the inequities & inequalities between genders. These conversations are with friends, colleagues, lovers, spouses, strangers, and fellow students. These conversations take place in different places at difference stages of the narrator’s life— in Ann Arbor, as a graduate student, in San Francisco, Los Angeles and other California cities, as twenty- & thirty-something navigating life, marriage, and work, then in San Joaquin Valley, as a divorced single mother. And some other cities in between all of these. So as you can tell, topics of each conversation changes & evolves as we witness the unnamed narrator going through different stages of life — from a recent college graduate to a divorced single mother, and everything in between.
.
I don’t really have a conclusive opinion for this novel, but it was kind of like getting a glimpse into someone’s diary on female identity as it evolves over time. Some may call it, bold and provocative, some may say it’s boring and pretentious, it’s going to be a highly subjective matter. The writing style was bit hard to follow — sentences & paragraphs are very long, and novel has no concrete structure. And the conversation were redundant, unnamed narrator having the same conversation over and over again. Her sad point-of-view and self-deprecating words were really depressing at times. But I also think Popkey did a great job of capturing wide-range of female identity, emotions, and experiences as it evolves over time. Many of the topics covered were important, thought-provoking, and relatable to certain extent. Overall, most satisfying enough...Raw, honest, and painful mediation on female identity, self-discovery, and desires. 🤓✌️📖
January 28, 2020
I consider myself to be a feminist and I would like to put it out into the world that this book is not feminist. This is whiny, self-destructive tragedy porn. It's written in "vignettes" because the author can only string together sad speeches and no real character development or plot. BOTM marketed this as being psychological, cerebral, salacious, and having female friendships. Let's parse through this garbage.
Psychological: There is a therapist and there's graduate school?
Cerebral: People do, in fact, think in the book? Only about themselves though.
Salacious: If you like self-destructive behavior and getting horny in Home Depot looking at teenagers, this is the book for you.
Female Friendships: There were literally none. The main character bitches about every other woman in the book.
If I wanted to hear about wine-drinking, deep-seated emotional trauma, and disdain toward men and children, I could go into Walnut Creek's Whole Foods and strike up a conversation with any white mom in the building. I wish I could have the time I spent reading this book back. What a waste.
Psychological: There is a therapist and there's graduate school?
Cerebral: People do, in fact, think in the book? Only about themselves though.
Salacious: If you like self-destructive behavior and getting horny in Home Depot looking at teenagers, this is the book for you.
Female Friendships: There were literally none. The main character bitches about every other woman in the book.
If I wanted to hear about wine-drinking, deep-seated emotional trauma, and disdain toward men and children, I could go into Walnut Creek's Whole Foods and strike up a conversation with any white mom in the building. I wish I could have the time I spent reading this book back. What a waste.
January 19, 2020
Did I, do I, loathe every moment spent with this book? Yes. The use — or shall I say, misuse — of commas in this book and the flagrant disregard for sensible punctuation in general made for a very distracting read. (Yes, I know it’s called “style”.)
While I *think* there were some interesting topics of exploration in this book, it’s really hard to say b/c my disdain for the writing style and narrator completely overshadowed anything else. Sorry, not for me.
While I *think* there were some interesting topics of exploration in this book, it’s really hard to say b/c my disdain for the writing style and narrator completely overshadowed anything else. Sorry, not for me.
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