The blurb that inspired me to check this out of the library called it a "classic work of psychological terror," which I guess is one way to describe racists being racist.

There are a few really brilliant passages in here about (non-racial) alienation, existentialism, ontological breakdown. Unfortunately, those are weighed down by 300 pages of rich hipsters being painfully stylishly detached from any human feeling at all, and the plot only makes sense under the assumption that Protagonist 2 has been riding the edge of a psychotic break for years, which isn't borne out by how she's written. The author acknowledges that she's a terribly written character, and an inordinately passive one; "then why did you write her like that" remains unanswered.