(My original ranty review remains at the bottom, but let’s see if I can’t pull something more coherent together.)
I will start by saying I can see why others enjoyed this book. It’s intelligent with an interesting premise. The characters are unusual. The writing is not bad.
For me, however, this book pushed one button after another. I have a strong sense of what I think is “right” or “fair.” And I have a limited ability to move outside of those boundaries. There was a moment in this book when one of my personal triggers was pushed, and I actually thought about lighting the thing on fire.
However, in anything I read I look for a) a strong story, b) likable characters or c) great writing. Preferably all 3 of course. This book had none. The story was average. White bread. It lacked movement and growth. (I read one of the sleek NY City passages aloud to a New Yorker. She was unimpressed at the author’s absolutely Herculean efforts to show how metropolitan and urban she is.)
I can respect a story with bite. I can enjoy some awful characters. But to be slowly bludgeoned to death by the plight of a gaggle of narcissistic, destructive human-locusts was too much.
I hated this over-hyped glob of First World Problems! Jesus Christ it was bad.
Premise – 4 rich shitheads depend on a future inheritance to fuel their horrible decision-making and selfish rampages. AND THEN THEY WHINE ABOUT!
I cannot abide the myopic, self-obsessed, poor-me blatherings of a bunch of rich white people who are sad they aren’t richer. Dude. People suffer. Starve. Beat each other to death. Don’t have a safe place to sleep with their children. And every trite, boring, WASPish complaint shoved down my throat in this too-long, crowded (I’m fairly certain GoT has less characters), meandering, self-important tome made me sadder for people who didn’t choose the awful fate they’ve been dealt.
I can understand why people like this book. There’s a very hip New York vibe totally crammed down your throat. And I think someone more mature or from a different walk of life may connect with these characters. But it got to a point where reading this was like sandpaper on a sunburn. Excruciating.