A rumination about violence against women, a satire on the professional literary scene and identity politics as a weapon to market people and books. And then on top of everything, an ending that … I don't even know what to say about it … I'm just glad the Icelandic poet finally showed up. With all this in mind, reading this little novel felt like an inside joke I wasn't a part of, however I did find it sparked a fascinating reflection on and around trauma.