I tried to poke around and figure out the allure of Facebook but only managed to stumble across a review of Lessons in Taxidermy from someone who hated the book.
Fair enough. But, rather than evaluating the literary or social relevance of the work, this reader points out that the narrator is not likeable.
Oh, how delicious – and accurate.
The narrator of the book (and this journal) is a carefully organized construct, a simulacrum, making specific points using traditional storytelling methods. None of which are designed to endear; in fact, my profound lack of interest in such matters is one of the major themes of the work.
Then there is the real person typing the words: a disheveled sarcastic harridan. Talk to me long enough and I will say exactly what you do not want to hear, and guess what? I don’t care.
I am ethical, honest, tenacious, and smart, all of which are attractive to the right audience – but even the people who love me would have to admit that they don’t particularly like me. I crave both complexity and clarity in all things, and while that might be alluring, it is never easy.
I am not nice.