The Fault Is Not Mine

Bleak, biting, and deliberately monotonous — a novel about opting out of life that sometimes just ends up shutting the reader out too.

✍️ My Thoughts:
I picked this up because I’d heard so much about it — the cult “sad girl lit” favourite, the book where a woman decides to sleep for an entire year. The premise is bold, and on paper it’s exactly the sort of offbeat character study I usually enjoy.

But here’s the thing: the narrator is thoroughly unlikeable (deliberately so), the tone is relentlessly cynical, and the pacing mirrors her sedation — slow, repetitive, and often disorientating. I can admire Moshfegh’s commitment to the idea, but I found myself switching off long before the narrator did.

There are glimmers of brilliance. Moshfegh skewers the emptiness of early 2000s Manhattan wealth culture with a razor-sharp eye, and the black humour occasionally landed for me. But the flashes of wit weren’t enough to make up for a reading experience that felt more exhausting than engrossing.

Would I recommend it? Only if you’re very much in the mood for something dark, bitter, and still. I understand why it resonates so strongly with some readers — the themes of grief, alienation, and the desperate urge to retreat from the world are powerful. But for me, the execution tipped too far into monotony.

📖 Vibe Check:
💊 Sedation chic
🖤 Cynical humour
📉 Nothing happens (by design)

💬 Favourite Quote:
“I was always angry that people couldn’t see into my head, that they were content to glimpse me only from the outside.”

⭐️ Final Rating:
2 stars. Conceptually sharp, but the reading experience left me cold — more numbing than illuminating.

Not every book lands the same way for everyone — this one simply wasn’t for me. But if you read it and loved it, I’d genuinely like to hear why it worked for you. Sometimes those different perspectives are just as fascinating as the books themselves.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ – Witty, wistful, and a little sunburned in the best way

📚 Quick Take:

A fizzy friends-to-lovers romance told through snapshots of summer trips past and present—equal parts hilarious, heartfelt, and oh-so-human. Poppy and Alex are a study in chemistry, missed timing, and emotional slow burns.

✍️ My Thoughts:

You know that feeling when you’re sitting on a balcony at golden hour, sipping something cold, and laughing with someone who just gets you? That’s the energy of this book.

Emily Henry does such a brilliant job with voice—Poppy is funny and chaotic and deeply lovable, while Alex is her quiet, repressed, khaki-wearing match. Their banter snaps, but there’s so much underneath it: yearning, vulnerability, and the ache of not quite being ready for each other… until maybe, just maybe, they are.

The timeline structure—bouncing between past summer holidays and their current attempt to reconnect—works beautifully to build tension. You know something went wrong, but you’re not sure what, and you’re too invested in their goofy little adventures to stop reading.

Why not five stars? A few pacing dips and the will-they-won’t-they dragged just a touch too long for me. But emotionally? It lands. And I love that Henry doesn’t shy away from exploring the messy parts of relationships: the fear, the timing, the inner stuff we have to figure out before we can show up fully for someone else.

✨ Vibe Check:

• 🧳 Friends to Lovers
• ⏳ Slow Burn, Slow Yearning
• 💬 Witty Banter Goals
• 😬 Emotional Avoidance Experts
• 🥲 Summer Nostalgia + Sadness
• 🧠 Therapy But Make It Sexy
• 🍕 Eating your feelings in different cities

💬 Favorite Quote:

“You couldn’t have held my hand. I was using it to hold yours.”
(Insert a little scream here.)

⭐️ Final Rating:

4 stars. Funny, messy, romantic, and real. It’s a beach read for people who cry under their sunglasses.