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Since I’m returning to university for another graduate degree, I felt that it was time to do some more reading. (confession: I haven’t read a single novel of literary merit since completing my first MA two years ago, but of course the Overlord would get me back in the habit).
My book for September is We Are Not Ourselves by Matthew Thomas, and I cried on eleven separate occasions while I read this book.
*Warning: There are spoilers ahead.*
My name is not Eileen Leary. I have never lived in New York.I am not the daughter of Irish immigrants, but I am the granddaughter of Norwegian ones. I will never be a nurse or have a son named Connell. I do not own my own house nor do I have any desire to purchase a fur coat. My ambition does not lie in physical possessions but intellectual accomplishments.
For all this, We Are Not Ourselves may be my own story.