if this were published a hundred years ago, this view of women's sexuality would have been risqué and daring.

but it was the '90s, so it's just annoying.

this is a book about three, well, governesses, who are often f*cking and even more naked.

but in reality, it is a novella-length excuse to have the most insane style i have ever read. if you can handle prolific instances of the words "thatch" and "slit" and "member" and "his sex" (guh) you're a better reader than i.

because i was gagging like a sitcom reaction GIF.

i had no sense of these girls, of their lives, of the people around them. even worse, i know the latter two were thematically intended but that didn't make it a pleasure to read...do you know how hard it is to make anything i can say in a pretentious manner not a positive for me? all i have is my pretentiousness.

this book made me lose everything.

this is a world of sex-obsessed creeps doing amoral sh*t elegantly (so slightly better than real life for that last one.

the ending

Spoiler

(the governesses disappear when no longer watched by a specific person)

is cool but also kind of nonsensical in context - throughout the rest of the book, the governesses exist as perceptions, but by many people. they are always flat, always the net weight of others' assumptions, but each of these caricatures is brought about by the needs of the person doing the perceiving.

does that make sense? i'm kind of tipsy. i didn't want to write this review.

bottom line: turns out not every book that's trying very hard is good! who knew.