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I'm not entirely sure that I was reading the same book as the rest of the BlogHer Book Club. All of the reviews I've read so far on BlogHer about Ann Napolitano's A Good Hard Look are full of praise and accolades for a well-crafted novel that sticks with the reader long past the last page. I've had experiences with novels just like that, where you cannot stop thinking about the book. And, to an extent, that was the case with Napolitano's book as well, though clearly for different reasons.
This review is late, mostly because life gets in the way, especially when you're trying to wrap up everything in time to take off work for a convention. But primarily this review is late because I couldn't understand how wildly different my take on the book was in comparison to the other BlogHer reviewers, a bunch of women for which I have the greatest respect. And yet, here I am at 4am, feeling the need to have my say, even though I fear it will brand me as an outsider at the conference this weekend.
Let me give you an example. If you have a copy of the book, turn to page eleven. Napolitano writes:
"The sun poured yellow syrup over the grass and stone slabs. In New York, the light was thinner, more brothlike."
Does anyone else see a problem here? I can get on board with the idea of likening the sunbeams to syrup, though this phrasing left me with a bit of a sickening image. But "brothlike"? That sent me over the edge in bad metaphor land. Every page past that was, in my opinion, riddled with unlikely metaphors and writing that left me feeling a bit cheated.
Yes, the characters are well thought out and the story gives a raw look at human depravity, but in short, I wanted an editor to take a second pass. I just couldn't like the book, no matter how hard I wanted to, and considering how little time I get to read these days, I feel cheated that I spent any time at all with something that keeps me up at night. I'm willing to face sleepless night for a remarkable novel. Sadly, this did not pan out to be that for me.
