The Heart Goes Last

If mainstream litfic hadn't already picked apart the prison of marriage... If SF hadn't already picked apart suburban America... If every bad '80s comedy hadn't already overused the Elvis impersonator gag... this might be a refreshing absurdist take on American life and profiteering. Instead it's a worn out rehash of everything that's been criticized already, full of worn out punchlines about Las Vegas and airliners, as well as tired characterizations of the naive, superficial housewife and husband, and a few cunning bad girls and bad boys. It is somewhat funny, somewhat interesting, lazy on the SF (too far future for all the old people to be so crazy about Elvis), but let's recognize that all women, no matter how superficial they may seem, have a rich interior life. If a man had written these women, the book would be labelled misogynistic.