![]() It’s easy, however, to simply hate the book because your inner third-wave feminist is waving the red flag and simply hates even reading about a raging misogynist. There were some gems here and there, but there could’ve been so much more. Overall, I really thought there was a lot of potential in the book. If I wasn’t left brimming with second-hand embarrassment and perturbation, I would’ve respected him. Nothing like a good taste of his own medicine to atrociously humble a man. ![]() Shared similar pastimes with people of the opposite gender. The diary of an oxygen thief review series#Essentially, the man likes to toy with the feelings of the women he courts and prides himself on being so knowledgeable about the female mind that when he gets bored of them, he’s able to find the most emotionally painful way to break things off.īut, he’s an individual of fleeting taste, so eventually, through a series of “twists and turns” (honestly it wasn’t that deep– he wasn’t that deep), he calms down, and falls in love with someone who– The story follows a middle-aged Irish man– works in advertisement by day, a sadistic heart-breaker with a copious amount of suppressed trauma, and drunkard by night. ![]() It’s exactly as the title described a diary. And then it just went downhill from there. It pulled you in just enough to leave enough mystery and intrigue that made you want to continue reading. A read most definitely fueled by a romanticization of the trouble-minded. I would give you a spoiler alert warning about the contents from this point forward, but you’re better off just hearing it from me, lest you waste your time. Like I mentioned before, I haven’t read a book in quite a while, and the book was quite short– giving me every excuse to splurge some time and read. Honestly, I wonder what the gender of the author is the book was designed to target women, but everything in the book screams otherwise. The title read “Diary of An Oxygen Thief”, followed by “Anonymous”. Like, I know I took a picture of a specific pair of silver metallic oxfords, so where is said picture now?Īnyway, during one of my Pinterest runs, I came across a book with a rather aesthetic cover (catching on now?). As someone who is constantly screenshotting or taking pictures of inspiration and things to do at a later date, I’ve always found it difficult to refer to old pictures I took, because of my lack of organization. I’ve found that, if you utilize the app properly, there’s a lot of potential. I’m currently going through my Pinterest phase, but not the “middle-aged housewife obsessing over interior design or cute little diy crafts to do with her kids” kind. It’s been a while since I’ve written a book review. Literally– for the sake of your literary palette. Just don’t take the guy home with you.Don’t judge a book by its cover. The realistic nature of his story, stumbling over what happened when, looping back and forth in time to pick up dropped threads, contributes to its impact: you could be in a New York bar, lending a sympathetic ear to a self-pitying tale of woe. As it is, the reader becomes trapped inside the mind of a howling paranoid. ![]() A fiction would have more logic, more shape the wrongs done to Mr Anonymous would be more substantial and his outrage more proportionate. However, if one chooses to read it as an unfiltered account of real events, the strangely feverish splurge of the narrative makes more sense. One can never know to what extent this first-person account of a broken-hearted advertising creative who once “liked hurting girls” before the tables were turned on him is autobiographical, and there’s a strong argument for it not mattering. S ince the author of this short, anguished novel first self-published it in 2006, it has assumed cult status, with no shortage of readers testifying to its powerful effect.
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