This is a very descriptive and beautifully lyrical book about a possibly mentally-ill woman who grows up in an abusive orphanage and endures abuse throughout her life from others. She is friendless but finds comfort in small things, such as the sight of the stars, the shape of a leaf, the crawl of a spider. The book opens with the woman abandoned in a derelict mental institution and her writing memories of her life on the wall. She is the narrator of the novel and is, apparently, not too bright - the language used by the author does not sound true to what such a character would write as it is too lyrical and complex. She is friendless but not alone as she takes comfort in whatever she can in this world. However, the book reads like a long stream of consciousness and the author goes overboard with the description and the lyricism which caused me to somewhat lose interest in the book after a while. I recommend the book; however, I would not compare it to Dickens. Dickens has a tight, riveting writing style which is not present in this book.

The tone of Lydia Millet's My Happy Life alternates between depressing and uplifting, and for a few hundred pages, you get to see life through the eyes of an unnamed woman and it changes your perspective entirely. The title is rather misleading, as she hasn't lived a "happy life" at all. In fact, her life is one of the worst I've read about, though I'm generally not shocked by fiction. But what incredible fiction it is!

She has lived a harsh and difficult life and gone through unspeakable things, yet she remains incapable of bitterness or anger. Her ability to love and forgive is staggering, and she sees beauty in things that others wouldn't think at all about. Locked up and abandoned in a mental hospital, the woman struggles to survive and eventually begins writing the story of her life on the walls.

I love this book because after the first couple paragraphs, I felt like a completely different person. And after I finished it, I realized that I was still me, but I felt different, like my mind had been expanded and I'd seen the world through someone else, someone who could only love. Millet's writing hits you right in the pit of the stomach, and I'd be interested in seeing what else she has to say. I'd recommend this to anyone who thinks they would appreciate a book like this.

If you have enjoyed previous books by Lydia Millet, jettison your preconceptions. With "My Happy Life," she is now writing like someone who sold her soul to the devil and still came out on top in the bargain.

The novel is narrated by a haunting, isolated figure who seems to have stepped into, or perhaps out of a Francis Bacon painting, and somehow stakes an indisputably valid claim to the uncharted region. This visceral portraiture simultaneously emphasizes a brutal and beautiful new reality. Like a Bacon masterpiece, Millet presents a mesmerizing, shocking supra-real view of humanity. The work defies categorization by establishing a new one against which others must now be measured. The book will stand as a significant contribution to literature.

If, say, Roseanne and Jeff Foxworthy were to inhabit the Sunday morning political talk shows instead of Sam and Cokie, you might find humor and current-events commentary similar to "George Bush: Dark Prince of Love." This fairly short book is part political satire, part modern history lesson and part bizarre and humorous character portrait. Protagonist Rosemary -- ex-con, sometime substance abuser, con artist -- is the classic antihero: you like her and root for her despite her antisocial and often unattractive personality traits. The novel is structured chronologically around George Bush's presidency, as Rosemary becomes more and more infatuated (obsessed?) with Mr. Bush's public persona and executes a plan to gain his attention and win his love. Without spoiling it, let's just say that the denouement is hilarious and perfectly appropriate. I am still wondering just who in the book is crazy and who is not: Rosemary? Mr. Bush? Both? Neither? While I heartily enjoyed this book, it definitely will not appeal to everyone. Disguised within Rosemary's admiring commentary is biting and keen observation about the Bush presidency, so if you sincerely admire and respect Mr. Bush, this is not a good choice for you. If you are not a big fan of absurdism (a la Tom Robbins or John Irving, for example), or if the snarky tone of Comedy Central's "The Daily Show" leaves you cold, you would also do well to look elsewhere. But if you're looking for keen political satire in the guise of a rather bizarre romance, give this unusual and smartly written book a try.

If you are looking for an enjoyable read I recommend this book. It is very funny!

And I thought I was bad. Leave it to my neighbor to once again come through on an excellent read. After reading GEORGE BUSH, DARK PRINCE OF LOVE, I realized my [slight] obsessive personality trait pails in comparison to Rosemary's, George Bush's obsessive, white-trash, obese, yet determined, dream-lover. Watch Rosie obsession progress from GB's inauguration, through the Persion Gulf War, and finally to GB's last days in office. Her slightly demented logic and determination won me over instantly. This novel is all laughs. Millet's narrative flows from one chapter to the next, never missing a beat. The way Millet uses the events occuring during GB's term in ofice to construct Rosie's life is sheer brilliance and fun. Lover's of George will most likely hate this book. But those who had secretly hated him in office will appreciate this book, no doubt. Can't wait for the next installment. Watch out Bill, Rosie's eyeing you.

I'm not a fan of showy, surreal novels, and this is surely one.

Estee Kraft is raised by her delusional father, who stages cockfights for family picnic entertainment, and her bedridden mother, who is obsessed with all things Betty (Grable, Boop, etc.). A lot of unusual and upsetting things happen, until eventually, Estee finds herself pregnant by the would-be real estate mogul her father has determined she should marry. The baby is born a cannibal, who eats every living thing in his sight line. Bizarre enough for you?

I read this entire book (thankfully, it's quite short) with a feeling of revulsion, though I can't quite pinpoint why. It was somehow just very unpleasant. I will admit to having some level of curiosity to see how the whole debacle would end. (Predictably weird.) There are hints throughout that Estee may be delusional herself, and there are lots of ties to the whole "eating everything" theme (see the book's title), but I really didn't care a lick. Not recommended at all.

Lydia Millet succeeds where everyone but James Joyce fails. She creates a language of dichotomous touchstones known to some, feared by most, swallowed, digested, and converted to the very lives of others. Nothing comes close to Millet's diffraction of neo-americana.

If you are going to read one book this year, read this one, then dial 911.

Omnivore is the most impressive first novel I've read in a long time. I'm eagerly awaiting Ms. Millet's next work