Before I read Juliet, Naked I was holding it in my hands at least three times in the bookstore, weighting pros and cons of buying yet another book with all the others already piling up in my room. Finally I decided to purchase it in order to have something light to read on the train to Cracow and then on the plane to Hamburg.
Honestly, I don't quite know what to make of it. At the beginning it was just tiresome with all that tracklists and biography of some strange songwriter singer, who seemed to be very important in the plot, but whose history was just God damn boring and predictable. After I somehow got through that part I started to truly enjoy reading it, maybe not because of the plot, which for me continued to be quite boring, but because of some of the heroin's reflections on life. I especially liked the part about having the epiphany once in a while in your life that determined some life changing decisions. And how these often happen when you are too drunk or too busy to really make some sense of them.
I think I had an epiphany of sorts in Hamburg. About what I want to do with my life. And it might have happened when I was drunk on Wednesday night or maybe when I was thinking everything over on the plane back home. Nevertheless, I came to some conclusions and I think I would be a fool to ignore them.
But back to the book. After some really great thoughts on life and what can be described as wasting some parts of it, the plot went toward some really uninteresting for me direction, therefore my enthusiasm toward it died somewhere along the pages.
I have this silly theory that it was mainly because it did not answer some of my current questions on handling real life problems, which seems to be the only thing I seek for in books nowadays.
