By: Sadie Smith

The sex in this book is the least erotic I've ever read. A better writer could have nailed esoteric descriptions of orifices as buildings, but Beagin doesn't. I felt like I was told rather than shown that Greta opened herself up to feeling her own desires. The narration never got less detached and sardonic than it started out. And I wish I could say that the book's failure to resolve any of the questions it asks in the beginning felt like a narrative choice. I'm all for an open-ended exploration of trauma and its role in our lives outside of the usual #traumanarrarive. But Beagin simple posed interesting questions and then failed to follow through, completely dropping narrative threads she introduced in the beginning of the book. No surprise this book got a good review from Autostraddle, though, since it's aesthetically appealing on a surface level without wanting to delve into the nuances of gay experience.