If you've ever read a book with a furrowed brow the entire time, wondering if you're missing something or if the book is deliberately obtuse, you'll be familiar with the experience of reading this book. This is nominally a story about a spree of gruesome murders (you should probably know going into this book that there are some graphic depictions of men dead who have been castrated), but it's more like a blend of genres - with poetry dominating by far - with shifting perspectives and perhaps purposely disorienting prose.

I debated between giving this book two or three stars because I was profoundly disappointed with it. The premise really gave me a lot to think about - flipping the prevalence of violence against women on its head, delving into the way society simultaneously glorifies and dehumanizes victims of horrible crimes, the power of language to create our own reality, etc. But unfortunately, really none of that came from the book itself. I felt like I was grafting my own meaning onto the book, and I don't always mind doing that, but the way this book was written felt almost condescending, as if I was supposed to be a sleuth understanding all the references and just following wildly as the book just careened around. This book had so much promise, but it really didn't have any sort of impact on me.

Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for an advanced reader's copy in exchange for an honest review!