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Boy Parts

Boy Parts

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And I can forgive a lack of intersectionality and dimension if say this, like Plath's Bell Jar, had been published in the 1960s. I can't wait to read Eliza Clark's next book, but I have to say-- the fact that she wrote a character like this slightly terrifies me.

Then things just get messy, and not a good kind of messy where I am enthralled by our mc’s unreliable and increasingly disconcerting narrative, but messy in a poorly executed kind of way. she manipulates everyone around her and is just downright cruel most of the time, but she’s also very witty and you’re further drawn into the story just to find out what she’s going to say next. When she first read the novel, Kelly remembers being struck by how well it captured the experience of being fresh out of university. Clark is probing some interesting ideas of power and gender by reversing the gender roles with Irina being the intimidating role using her power to exploit her models. For an author whose entire online presence is built on wokeness (I found this book through her Guardian interview and then her twitter) there’s some problematic shit in here.if you've been reading a lot of lit fic about unlikable women lately (and it's all i know how to read), and you've been able to separate characters from your feelings about them (and that is one of my few skills), and you know the narrator is not the author (something i am aware of, usually), then you might.

In my head things are often a bit darker than I think they are, and then I read them back and realise they’re actually quite funny,” she says of her sense of humour. As mentioned earlier, the recent years have been a litany of men in positions of power in the art world being exposed for using this power to assault and silence women, though we also know this has occurred throughout time with big names such as Picasso or Edward Hopper abusing their muses, and Andy Warhol has often been criticized for exploiting those around him. But then we are meant to believe that she was in fact traumatized by this so much so that now she herself is subjecting others to the type of trauma she was victim to. Now it’s been turned into a stage play, adapted by Gillian Greer and starring Aimée Kelly as the wildly unreliable narrator.Clark manages to make a feverish descent to hell into a thrill ride where we clutch the page like the harness on a roller coaster and spend the whole trip both screaming and laughing. Part of me does think that London is this complete capitalist cesspit where all of the money goes’ . Still at a relatively early stage in the creative process, the four women – Greer, Joyce, Kelly and Clark – are figuring things out. I guess firstly I find it hard to like a book when the main character is so unlikeable and this one was pretty vile! Power dynamics have been a topic of necessary criticism in recent years, with a reckoning coming to those who exploit their power to abuse others.

This is not unlike the depiction of the poet-turned-murderer in Distant Star, who uses actual photos of women he killed as an art exhibit that even distresses his fellow fascists, that he ‘ looked down on the world as if he were standing on top of a volcano; he saw you and me and himself from a great height, and, in his eyes, we were all, to be quite frank, pathetic insects. When the opportunity to show her photographs in a fashionable London gallery coincides with a new boy to obsess over, cracks begin to appear. Flo (i had to check her name, that's how memorable she is) is a rip off of Reva from MYORAR who exists to be the classic female friend in love with our female protagonist who does not and will not ever reciprocate her feelings.

Do I have to smash a glass over the head of every single man I come into contact with, just so I leave a fucking mark?

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