#BookEater with: Emma Cline

I’ve always hated the thought that in all of us, but just in all of us, there are blind spots. Impassable crossings, which we try to avoid with consciousness and attention.

And then, I feel compelled with The Girls of Emma Cline. I fell inside it, without realizing myself.

The Girls is a vintage novel, of all the epochs.

1969. Is the year when the Rolling Stones held a free concert in Hyde Park in memory of Brian Jones, in front of 500.000 people. It was on July the 5th.

Here it is, in parallel, that torrid summer, Evie Boyd, the protagonist of this bristly and real novel, has to deal with the solitude. And that’s why it is the novel of all times. How many of us was fourteen years old? How many of us, at fourteen, have felt the urge to want to be great at all costs? And, how many of us, in a moment, they felt alone and abandoned by the world?

It’s amazing how, in certain circumstances, to take that ones considered bad companies, is a second. And that’s what occured to Evie Boyd, when in a drugstore, bumps into the destiny of Suzanne Parker.

Too many considerations came out during the BookEater, but there is one that impressed me much, and that was that Evie Boyd, during her life, has never had her own house.

The authoress: Emma Cline was born in California, 24 years ago. This is her first novel.

How much costs: 18,00 € printed edition

10,99 € digital edition (16% of discount)

Why read it: Because it is a frank and direct novel. Edgy and brutal, of course. But it is always great to know that usually, literature, doesn’t make that kind of discounts.

The Phrase: «There are certain survivers in the catastrophes, which reports never start with the tornado allert or the captain announcing an average of the motors, but always much earlier, chronologically: they support that they noticed something strange in the sunlight, that morning, or too much static electricity through the sheets. An argument with her boyfriend. Like the presentiment of the disaster insinuates in any case that preceeded it. And I lost some signals? Any twinge inside? The bees that crawl gleaming on the tomatoes of the cottage? A unusual absence of cars in the street?