What the actual...? When I first started reading this, I thought there had been some horrible, horrible printing error. It made absolutely no sense at all. Total drivel. I did read a bit online about what Stein was trying to accomplish with this book, but I don't think she succeeded. At least not for me. The job of an author, in my view, is to convey meaning to a reader and she failed at this utterly. This read as though a random word generator had been used or the proverbial monkeys were allowed to peck away at typewriters. This may be the only instance in which I have felt as though a reading experience was a complete waste of my time.

Donating to the used bookstore.