"I saw the rape in his eyes. I was wearing my white dress and laughed to myself, thinking how anyone would say I kept asking for it. I'd opined often with other women and with men that every man has a degree of rape in him. Women didn't understand what I meant. They were alternately disgusted and confused. They thought I was stupid. But the men didn't. I think they were impressed that I understood."

Okay, so. A lot to unpack. First off: I get that Joan is traumatized. I can relate to some degree. I too have witnessed literal man-made horrors beyond comprehension. Maybe a lot of women have. But that doesn't rectify this. No amount of backwards misandry could make me think that all men are - deep down - rapists.

She's terribly angry at men for what they did to her - but she's also unbelievably and unfathomably sex-obsessed. She sees leering men and thinks only of the many ways she could be violated by them, understands every lingering stare as 'small rape'. But she REVELS in their desire for her. I don't even know what to say to that. How can you equate a mere GLANCE to a disgusting violent act so nonchalantly. There's just... no excuse for this.

A lot of this book is just her, calling herself 'deranged'. But she's not, she's just toothless and psychopathic - riddled with self hatred and internalized misogyny.

I thought she'd murder men for actual misdeeds. But she doesn't - she just lays on her back, lets married men fuck her. She's anything but an animal. She's docile. I've had more blood in my mouth.

I expected at least some ferocity but she was always the victim of her own braindead choices. This is just a rage inducing story about a bimbo's poor choices and her hatefucking people because she doesn't get the love she thinks she deserves. Herself sexualizing every woman she's ever met. Boiling them down to how fuckable they are - not even her OWN MOTHER exempt of her brainrot opinions on what a woman should be.

I want to scream. So much of this book just made me want to claw my face off.