Customer Reviews

No One Belongs Here More Than You: Stories

5 star:		(36)
4 star:		(23)
3 star:		(8)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(8)

 

 

There are some very private, strangely beautiful moments in these short stories. It's an almost perfect little tome although a writer friend of mine made a very interesting observation. He said that he often felt that Miranda's quirkiness superseded substance as was the case in "The Swimming Lesson." In retrospect I agree with him but I still loved this book and bought copies to give to friends. It's worth a read.

I read this because of the feature length film, but where the film was potent and endearing, this was so-so. The quirkiness of the characters and bizarre dialogue is much the same style as Miranda's other work, but after a while it becomes insipid. In a filmic medium Miranda uses timing masterfully to create awkwardness, but this quality isn't to be found in her short stories. Granted, I appreciate and admire her ability to rotate mediums, and this book brings you to a closer understanding of her vision, but her writing doesn't necessarily excite me. Despite this, if you love Miranda's other work, you will probably enjoy reading this. If this is your first time encountering Miranda, I suggest first watching "Me and You and Everyone We Know".

This collection of short stories is very intimate and raw. I have to admit that Miranda July's writing makes me uncomfortable, but it also rings true. Maybe it's good to be made to feel uncomfortable. To have someone ask the hard questions without offering answers.

July's quirky perspective offers up surprises on every page. That said, her off-beat stories ring true, and aren't strained for effect. Her characters are funny, poignant, self-deprecating, sad, and often sharply discerning -- like the author herself, I suspect. There's an outsider kind of hipness in the writing that's right at home in New York's Greenwich Village, and a sexual frankness in the book that may offend some readers. But the depictions of sexuality aren't gratuitous, or at least not very. All in all, July's deftly crafted, economically written slices of life are both entertaining and intellectually satisfying, a good read.

What a sad and sometimes lonely book, but so witty and so engaging. Miranda has captured some deep dark stories all with such a palpable level of emotion it's hard not to get sucked in.

These are charming, but ultimately forgettable stories. The book feels a little like the adventures of one character (who is definitely female), although there are many different characters who feature throughout. I didn't get a really distinct sense of voice for each character, nor was I carried into their worlds as completely as I'd hoped to be. Some of the stories felt a little contrived, or like they were trying too hard to be quirky.

I'm going to go watch the film, instead.

Will not be to your liking if you prefer linear strightforward and conventional literature. This collection is more metaphorical and elliptical in nature. It does not really connect to anything or make for an enjoyable reading experience. I believe that some critics have discerned a connection between this author's writing and that of Raymond Carver. I really can't see any resemblance,

I didn't exactly dislike this book, but I didn't love it either. I think Miranda July is just a little too weird for me. I loved "Me and You and Everyone We Know", I thought it was brilliant. But these stories just did not resonate with me. As I read each one, I just felt like they seemed a little forced...almost too quirky. I wasn't in any way offended by them, I just didn't see the appeal. I think they're trying too hard to be hip and now.

While this book has received some rave reviews, again and again, I felt the narrator of each story was interchangeable. While ages, genders, and demographics differed, each short story had virtually the same voice as all the others. This collection lacked narrative variety. After a couple stories, I tired of reading a somewhat monotonous literary style.

Full disclosure: I'm a longtime fan of and contributor to Miranda July's collaborative website, Learning To Love You More. Last year's Me and You and Everyone We Know is a film I regularly dream of making. So despite my anticipation of July's premiere short story collection and real fascination and appreciation for her work as a writer, filmmaker and performer; I give this anthology a centrist's recommendation. If you aren't familiar with July's media, suffice to say she's one of the more brilliant working artists of her generation, and this collection wouldn't be the worst place to get acquainted. I'd just probably recommend a smaller dose of her quirky formula.

One of July's greatest strengths is her ability to tease out the strangeness of everyday life and the bizarre interactions we take for granted. While in this compendium she certainly includes the usual intense encounters - the return of a once-removed birthmark or tragedy involving the people with whom she is forced to share an apartment patio - most of the stories in No One Belongs Here More Than You are full of awkward sexual interactions or unrequited fantasies. Not bad or even or out of character, I still found myself yearning for more offbeat anecdotes and metaphors than lustful musings. However, what I do cherish are July's introspective reflections on love: women who cry together in group romance therapy, informal childcare surrogacy, the couple who knew subconsciously they would sacrifice each other in the face of a killer, taking a sewing class to spy on your boss's mysterious wife. My favorite story, "This Person," also drew to mind a 1999 Dismemberment Plan song, "You Are Invited." Random reference, I know, but the two are so comparable, if you like the story "This Person," you'll love the song too. Both refer to unrestricted social access and how, ultimately, if given such a gift, many of us would opt out and head home anyway.

It's important to note that several of these stories were previously published, so if you've been following July's work in periodicals like the New Yorker, Bridge or the Paris Review, you may have seen some of this material before. Best method for intake: borrow this book from a more overzealous, Miranda-loving friend and read it in already awkward social spaces like crowded transportation.