Craig MacDougall

There is little to recommend this glacially-paced, pretentious bore. The unhinged, religious zealot has become a bit of a trope by now, what with self-abuse, seizures, faith-questioning, acting out, and the requisite visions. The protagonist’s struggle differentiating between the real and the imagined lacks much interest and her soliloquising is banal. With all the cockroach imagery, I was hoping for a Kafka-esque turn of events. No such luck.