Stop Asking for my name

I wanted all the way through to love this book. And I did, mostly. Some lines took my breath away. Some? Many. Sally Rooney has a sublime voice. Utterly committed to crafting every drop of a sentence or should I say crafting every drop utterly committed to. Or whatever that sentence thing she often does is. I laughed out loud about four times in this book. Perfectly. Was reminded of Dostoyevsky: documenting with such mastery life’s minutiae, for both contemporary and future readers. A future classic. So why did I not love it all the way through? The unread part shrinking I really started to worry that I was in the thrall of nothing more than a mundane love story and the thought crept in I must re-read it for clues as to why it’s more than that. At the end now I’m still not sure but it was great and I wished it was longer. The wait for the next Sally Rooney is interminable now.