This was so beautifully written. The prose was so good, so fragile and heartbreaking, so precise, falling into poetry at times. It’s hands down the most gorgeous thing I’ve read in ages. It’s about a young American woman living in London, and her relatively small world. She likes to dress up, and she doesn’t have very much money, and there are boys to think about. She isn’t very happy, and doesn’t really know who she is, or who she wants to be. It never gets figured out, but it breaks your heart, and it’s beautiful, and that’s enough.
Honestly, I read this book in the middle of July, and it absolutely bowled me over, and I’m still not sure what to say about it, other than that it’s beautiful. Young women are fragile and strong in this very specific way that’s hard to explain, and this does as good a job of describing that as anything I’ve read. I’m a very different sort of young woman than the protagonist of this novel, but there were still parts that cut too close. It’s a really fantastic novel.