I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman

“I was forced to acknowledge too late, much too late, that I too had loved, that I was capable of suffering, and that I was human after all.” 

I wish I could share the same enthusiasm that everyone else seems to hold for this book; that’s not the case, sadly. Despite its potential, I found the execution anticlimactic, and all it really evoked was a sense of wasted opportunity rather than mystery or curiosity. Literary edging without the orgasm.