Delicious, spooky ... The novel’s happenings are conceptual, but the feelings it inspires are pretty universal. There’s a thick ooze of malaise throughout, a pleasing sinking feeling of dread and desire and compulsion. The plot of Cult Classic feels less important than the writing — the story sags a bit in the middle — but Crosley’s prose crackles throughout ... The novel reads like a memoir — which makes sense, considering that Crosley is the author of three essay collections ... Her writing defines the diverse list of small grievances and indignities that come with trying to date men ... Reading Cult Classic is...a discomfiting experience that you can’t stop engaging in, like grinding your molars until they hurt in a good way. If you’ve had the recent displeasure of dating in New York, or dating in general, or if your past keeps coming back to haunt you, the book may give you déjà vu ... It’s a good thing Cult Classic is so funny, because otherwise it would be kind of bleak ... I’d perhaps not recommend this novel for anyone experiencing cold feet before a wedding. (Or maybe it’s exactly what I’d recommend; depends on the couple.)
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