#53 An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England

Clever, very clever, maybe too clever. I curled up in the comphy chair to read this book but had to remove to the bedroom because I got glared at for giggling too much by my fellow living room denizens. It's pretty funny - the kind of dark and subtle self-referential humour that comes out of nowhere. It has much the same cadence as the humour in Arrested Development, and fans of one will likely enjoy the other. This book is painfully self-aware, but as a fictional memoir this works. I'm glad I read it - I had been meaning to since I saw it out last summer. I'm certain that it didn't move me in any profound way, and there was no insipid 'triumph of the human spirit' tripe going on here, but it was nice to feel a sense of camaraderie with the author. The jokes were familiar if only because they were eerily similar to my own internal commentary on the world.

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