This Is Not Chick Lit

 

The cover of this book presents a complex paradox to the reader, clearly stating that it is exactly what it says it is not.  And both the visual and the textual statements are true, to a certain degree, as all the short stories are written by women and some are about love. 

After reading the introduction I was drawn in, and upon completing the first story I was shocked and intrigued.  Shocked by the language and intrigued by the incredible level of the writing.  It was extremely well done, and I was willing to brave another story, even two, to enjoy more of the incredible writing.  Honestly, the writing is beyond what I consider good, syntax that engaged, presentation that excited, thought process that entertained. 

The topics and story lines are thoughtfully considered and worthwhile, but the shock factor was there in all three stories that I read: crude, and some sacrilegious.  I did not read on and chose not to attend the book-group discussion on this book.  I even dropped out of that particular book group - of the three months I was a member, this collection was the second book that didn't fit my definition of good literature, and the one discussion I attended was not as well participated in or as deeply thought out as I like.  Tat makes me sound like a snob.  Really I just have a different book group already that I feel is better for me - I'm an established member, it meets on a better day, they mostly read books I like, and they arranges for refreshments differently (everybody brings something to share, as opposed to the host serving a dessert).

The verdict: the writing of this book is like biting into the most delicious delicacy in the world, then finding out partway through that doggy poop is one of the ingredients.  Despite all that is incredible about it, I just can't recommend it.