This is a weird novel, and one that is neither easy to follow nor necessarily very enjoyable.

At first the story goes back and forth in time, centering on the female narrator’s current life in Mexico as a writer, wife and mother and he past living in New York City where she worked as a translator. Then around halfway through a third timeline appears with a brand new narrator, a man this time, and it’s unclear if we are reading the words of the author the woman is writing about or if it is her novel. Everyone, however, is extremely unreliable, insincere, and manipulative, and we can’t really believe anything we are reading, which often had me asking why I should even be bothering in the first place.

While I appreciated Luiselli’s attempt to do something as experimental and daring as this novel turns out to be, I also kept wondering if she ever had readers in mind while writing. It’s a very dense, confusing, challenging, and often inscrutable novel, filled with digressions, asides, and a structure that feels more like a puzzle than a narrative.

It’s ultimately an oddity - a weird book that feels far too navel gazing. Just not my cup of tea, despite having heard of Luiselli spoken with raves and awes. I don’t know if this book is indicative of her other works, but I’m not sure it did enough to convince me I should give her writing another try.