“Strangely, it gives me hope, hope that it’s possible to make art primitively, in a way that isn’t steeped in professionalism and compromise. Art that still hates. I remember how much hope there is in hatred.“
This was one of the most surreal books I’ve read in some time, maybe ever. If you’re looking for a traditional story format with plot, you’re not going to get it here. This is an experimental treatise that focuses on art, Black Metal music, magic, witchcraft, religion, nonconformity, and writing. The prose is powerful, direct, gross, and, well, hateful. It’s my favorite aspect of this book.
However, I think this book is too experimental for my tastes. There are some scenes where I question the necessity of its inclusion (besides shock). I feel that at least 50 or so pages could have been shaven off and nothing major would have been lost. I’m also deeply disappointed

that the adventure of the murderous subject of Edvard Munch’s Puberty and her mission to kill him didn’t pan out as a subplot like the blurb implied

. And while I appreciated the narrator’s unique voice, at the same time it also borderlined on angsty edgy teen cursing the world- which made sense in some passages talking about her youth but when you’re an adult and still acting like that it will induce some eye rolls.
In the end, my expectations were too high.