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The material in here is heinous stuff -- kids/people torturing one another, S&M, incest, childhood sexual abuse, stuff that Jerry Springer might not even touch -- but because of Gaitskill's powers of observation, I just couldn't help but to read and savor every word. I'd put her mastery of the language at about the same level as Franzen.
The main thing that distracted me from the main narrative was the Ayn Rand/Objectivism stuff, especially toward the end when things are really heating up and every peripheral discussion about Definitism (Gaitskill's version) sinks the emotion down a couple of notches. But I forgive her. It's an unpleasant story told with beauty and compassion, and although the ending may be a tad melodramatic, I was glad and thankful for it. After being put through so much pain, it was a relief to bask in the tiny sliver of happiness.
In the end, it really isn't a traditional novel, more like an accumulation of sketches, but I felt a whole lot throughout. For me, it worked.
But truly the book is much more complex than the contrasts and similarities between the two main characters. The weaker one saves the one we perceive to be the stronger.
This is an unexpected story in that the characters do not turn out to be what they seem to be. Interestingly, one is writing about a woman, now dead, although named something other than Ayn Rand (Anna Granite), is Ayn Rand! How interesting to spin a story around two women who are not the best they can possibly be, but who seem to be equally interested in a writer who glorifies the individual who single-mindedly pursues attaining one's best. And of course, these two are at their worst for most of the book. Yet, their worst is their best, given what they have both been through.
The writing is clear, insightful and well-paced. You feel for these two women, who do not seem to be able to feel for themselves.