Penelope goes to Harvard . . . or something

Maybe it's because I didn't go to Harvard.   It could be because I'm nerdy and socially awkward, but not in an outwardly noticeable way most of the time.  It might be that I think I understand what friendship is and/or what it means, but I actually do not.  More than likely, it could be because I've never met a man named Gustav - let alone a man named Gustav that sounds suspiciously German and British and goes skiing in Japan for lengthy periods of time.

Whatever the reason, I did not "get" this book.  "This book" being Penelope by Rebecca Harrington.

Anyway, there is no story.  No contractions. Nothing, really.  Well, not nothing.  There was some wit occasionally.  Unless the point of the book was to show that college students (no matter how elitist) have no direction or plot or story, there was nothing to gain from this book.

If Ms. Harrington was attempting to prove that college students are aimless, stunted, self-absorbed, and shallow - she succeeded.

I don't know . . . maybe you'll "get" it and you'll love it and you can tell me to suck it.  As I've stated before, I'm a gal who likes a lesson in her stories.  For that matter, I'm a gal that likes stories in her stories.  

I was obviously nonplussed by this book.  I have very little to say, which is odd.  Soooooo, here I go.  I'm off to read something that is decidedly different from this book.