This book is just as well-written and honest as Cusk's other books, but for some reason I didn't feel compelled to read it. I finally did finish it, but I'm pretty sure it was weeks between the time that I first picked it up and the time that I finally finished reading (and it's a tiny little book, so I didn't spend much time on it in between).
This book should not be read by the childless. Those who want to remain childless probably wouldn't be interested; those who plan to have children in the future would probably either be scared into the want-to-remain-childless camp, or would blow it off as hysterical over-exaggeration.
It's been a minute since I was a first-time mother, but the book still resonated with me. I distinctly remember the confusion and loneliness and lack of confidence that Cusk describes. What is more difficult for me to remember--or determine--is whether those feelings were more a function of being new to motherhood, or of lacking a supportive partner. My experience with my youngest child (and a supportive partner) was completely different. (In a good way, obvs.)
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"Ah, good conversation--there's nothing like it, is there? The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing." --M. Rivière to Newland Archer, The Age of Innocence