Sharp and somewhat stark writing creates an undulating reading experience with aspects of grief, loneliness and insecurity alongside those of witty art school experience and the complicated romance of Charlotte's love affair with Katarina. You know that Charlotte’s downfall will surely come, and whilst initially looking forward to it (I didn’t much like her to begin with) I found I was ultimately dreading the reveal of the lies she has told.
I didn’t care what I looked like, on the outside of things; doing nothing was more natural to me than anything else. My personality could be characterised by a distinct lack - of almost everything. Lying was one of the only things I did for myself, the only time I felt active, a real person, and I was good at it. But it was just another absence, this inability to be honest.
