I think the Goodreaders on here criticizing this intentionally alienating and eccentric book for being alienating and eccentric are the most boring people in the world. “I’m so sorry if I’m alienating some of you. Your whole fucking culture alienates me,” as Kathleen Hanna sang. This story made me think and laugh and rage and weep. Harriet Burden is real to me, one of my most favorite feminists in literature. She’s tragic and strong, playful and serious, a mess of contradictions and masks. I think the Goodreaders on here criticizing her for not ringing true to life are the second most boring people in the world, because she is me if I were taller and smarter and interested in fine art rather than movies. I love you, Harry!!! ❤️‍