It's not a very good sign when you start reading a book, and a couple of chapters in, the text suddenly becomes very familiar, even though you know you haven't read the book. You puzzle it over for a while, and then realize what happened: There was an excerpt from the novel in The New Yorker a while back.
And the problem with that is, you read it in the magazine and didn't like it.
This is one of the big "it" books of the year, but it left me cold. Part of it was the disjointed storytelling--it's all over the place. And part of it was the deep dive into the world of "film"; truth be told, I'm kind of a "movie" person myself. I love movies and watching them and thinking about them, but not in a deep, academic way. If you're more deeply involved in films, this book might work better for you.
But it also did not live up to the description on the jacket, which implies it's about a close friendship between two young women in the 1980s whose friendship is disrupted by meeting a third, mysterious woman. That sounds so much more exciting than what actually happens.
It's a shame, because Spiotta can craft a sentence and vividly set a scene. But those sentences and scenes overall did not overcome both the monotony and disjointedness for me.