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A departure, in both art and story telling, that failed. This was a huge waste of time to read. Content wise, it was filled with the author's self-absorption and neurosis that was tied with Woolf and a bunch of mid-century psychoanalysis mumbo-jumbo. Honestly, the story was more about the author's relationship with her therapists than her mother. Art wise, it felt very amateurish - big, bulky, vague shapes without any contouring or expression. Fun Home was good, but stay the hell away from this slog fest of belly button gazing. 0 stars.
