The last two words of “Juliet, Naked” were “Thank God” and I couldn’t agree more.
Thank God, it’s over, Thank God I don’t have to keep reading it, and Thank God I didn’t actually spend any money on this book. Oh wait.. that’s right, I did, and now I want it back.
This book was by far one of the most depressing books I think I have ever had the displeasure of reading. The female lead was pathetic, the male lead was a washed up rock n’ roller who (admittedly) was even more self loathing than myself (if that’s even possible), and even the 6 year old child in this book, who should have been running around like a little demon throwing his Play-Doh at people, spent all of his time obsessing that his pathetic excuse for a father was going to kick the bucket at any given moment. (Which to to be honest might have actually made the book a little more interesting.)
This book was supposed to be about the reinvention of ones self (or so the product description lead me to believe) but all I got out of it was a 2 day jet set getaway to “Pity Town, USA”
There are 3 man characters in this book.
Annie, a 40 year old women, who hates her job, hates her husband, and finds the email ramblings of a recluse thrilling and um…life altering?
Duncan, Annie’s soon to be ex-husband who has a wildly inappropriate infatuation with Tucker (the afore mentioned washed up rock star) who cheats on his wife with a 20 something year old airhead, and then spends the rest of the book regretting his decision. (Uh duh)
and…last but certainly not least
Tucker, the washed up rocker himself who has 5 illegitimate children, no money AT ALL, and is a recovering alcoholic. (Sounds like a winner ladies…doesn’t he.)
The first 2 chapters are about a toilet, which is then followed up by a rather large mound of pissy ex-wives, 5 or 6 chapters of self deprecation, 1 very annoying neighbor, and an eyeball from a dead shark carcass.
Who could ask for more right? Oh, yeah…that would be me. The girl who would actually like a decent plot and not some inevitable circle of masochistic crap.
Save your money people, spend it on something worth a damn, for example a bottle of bleach so you can mail it to these fictional characters and tell them that yes, in their case suicide might actually be the answer.
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[Rating:1/5]
