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When a beautiful, aspiring writer strides into the East Village bookstore where Joe Goldberg works, he does what anyone would do: he Googles the name on her credit card.
There is only one Guinevere Beck in New York City. She has a public Facebook account and Tweets incessantly, telling Joe everything he needs to know: she is simply Beck to her friends, she went to Brown University, she lives on Bank Street, and she’ll be at a bar in Brooklyn tonight—the perfect place for a “chance” meeting.
As Joe invisibly and obsessively takes control of Beck’s life, he orchestrates a series of events to ensure Beck finds herself in his waiting arms. Moving from stalker to boyfriend, Joe transforms himself into Beck’s perfect man, all while quietly removing the obstacles that stand in their way—even if it means murder.
What the hell did I just read. I don’t even know how to wrap my brain around this one.
What can I even say? This book, told in the second person by an obsessive stalker (who can actually, against my better judgment, be charming and witty and intelligent), took me five long days to read (which is a long time for me) and at one point I even got a migraine which I blame on YOU, Joe Goldberg.
This book is a lot of things. It’s crass and irreverent and crude and graphic and vulgar. It’s also seriously clever. I believe a lot of this book’s success has to do with its shock factor. I get it. I don’t know if I liked it, but I get it.
I don’t know how to rate this, I don’t even know if I enjoyed it or not. I guess I can say I appreciate the creativity of it…it is like nothing out there. But would I recommend it? Nope.
This is for the very strong of heart. Proceed with caution. But I can guarantee you’ve never seen anything like it.
3.5 stars…I guess?!