Saga, Volume 8

This is a novella/short story about a selfish, obsessive woman who does not know herself. It also has several continuity errors (it’s spring, frangipani blossoms everywhere, then it’s Christmas break the next day; she’s writing this from the future “I’m happily married now”, then she’s writing it from her art school bed in real time.). Its only saving grace is the always-enchanting narrating by Mamie Gummer—the only reason I finished it.

Also, a frangipani is an American tree, and she’s in Italy. That stuff really bugs me, especially when the tree is harped upon.