Kind of book that makes you very, very angry. Took about 20 pages for me to want to kill all the male characters, so that opening line "I was not sorry when my brother died" ended up feeling like an understatement. Obviously it was partly to demonstrate that it was structural because wealthy or poor, master's degree or no education at all, young or old, the lives of the women in this story are ruled by patronising, domineering, self-aggrandising, idiotic, lying, manipulative and horribly sexist men. (Good to get that off my chest) It almost feels unrealistic that more of them didn't completely lose their minds. Anyway this reminded me why I usually avoid reading fiction in the evenings - couldn't sleep for hours after I put it down yesterday because I was so bloody angry, and then tonight I couldn't put it down at all and now it's 3am (oops).