Honestly this book did not end up being what I expected it to be. I thought it was going to be more of a memoir format, with the author discussing times that they felt alone/lonely while living in a city. But it ended up being more like a collection of nonfiction essays, with loneliness being a connecting through line among all of them. Usually I would dislike this, because it is something that I have criticized other books for in the past, but this time the topics ended up being interesting enough to justify it and hold my attention. 
I liked hearing the info about the artists that Laing highlighted, such as Andy Warhol. Particularly because this is probably not info that I would have ever sought after for myself. But I feel like I learned a lot. 
I also really enjoyed the sections talking about the isolating nature of being a part of the LGBTQ+ community, especially in the late 1900s, during the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis in America. I can't imagine how bad the discrimination was back then, when being queer was so heavily associated with HIV in the eyes of the public. 
Overall, this was a really enjoyable read. 
Listened to on Libby.

olivia laing really dragged out some of my deepest, most shameful thoughts and displayed them all out here in her book, huh? reading this was unexpectedly comforting at times because, idk, misery loves company i guess. there's really something about having someone put your thoughts and emotions into such eloquent words. at the same time though, i'd caution everyone to really evaluate your current state of mind first before you dive into this book. it's extremely visceral, and there were times when i had to stop reading because it was just too much. reading this book about loneliness during one of the loneliest periods of human existence in the past few years isn't something to be taken lightly. this book was incredible but, idk, just really think about whether you can handle it or not before you start reading it.