The Nest
The Nest – Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney
Amazon’s online review sold me, but I shopped, and I avoided buying the book for a few days. I was interested, but buying a book itself is a commitment. I’m not always good with long–term commitments.
There’s a deft authorial touch in the prologue, and then, I was hooked. However, before going any further, the first sidebar item is a question of descriptions when female authors describe males having sex. Valid point. There’s always the assumption that the point of climax feels like what me – as male – thinks it feels like for a woman.
Sideways trip aside, the prologue is a good hook, and introduces the rest of the tales, various stories that intertwine. Layered and nuanced, from a white and privileged literary view.
There’s a certain attention to detail, when a single brand is mentioned, and that singular detail paints a larger image for one character. The novel isn’t overly stylized, but does require a modicum of current cultural understanding.
Late in one arc, there was that line – seriously scary for me – the character unsure if his relevance was diminished by others, or his own undoing. Or, did he really matter at all?
Which echoes a sentiment I ran into, earlier in life, than the character, but the same idea, unsure if my relevance was dismissed by others, by my own undoing, or, did I really matter at all, then?
Delightful prose, and the author’s web claims years of writing for start-ups, which, in a way, shows. Adds a breathless tone to the narration, in addition to being stylistically slick, and tautly plotted.
Or coincidence. while it is artfully timed, and seldom real life life ever work out to such a plotted time–table, in my own way, as a professional, I’ve seen it happen.
The Nest