BANAL NIGHTMARE

Sex and the City meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets the quasi-campus satire in this wickedly funny novel.

It’s said that misery loves company; by Butler’s reckoning, millennials love misery and other miserable millennials. Thirty-something Margaret Anne “Moddie” Yance returns to the Midwestern college town where she grew up; after splitting from her long-term boyfriend, she’s in despair—at one moment wondering why she spent so much time with Nick, a “megalomaniac or perhaps a covert narcissist,” and at others lamenting the loss of someone who knew her intimately and appreciated her biting humor…to a point. Most of Moddie’s friends are hardly friends [insert sarcastic tone], and she has no idea how to play nicely with them. Indeed, she’s a scathing critic, a kind of politically correct liberal who listens to NPR and relishes regurgitating facts from it. She tells a woman who loves Facebook that it’s “the number one worldwide distributor of child pornography, but whatever helps you stay connected, I guess.” At the same time, most of Moddie’s “friends” are seriously and hilariously insipid; for example, they plan to address a high-profile campus sexual assault in a “global inter-student way” with “molestation and rape questionnaire[s]” at the beginning of the semester. Shifting from one point of view to another, sometimes within a single chapter, Butler skewers all her characters as they whine about being overworked by their academic jobs and unappreciated by their friends and significant others. Sound like fun? Butler writes with a bee-sting-sharp sense of humor and irony, and nothing is sacred, not Hillary Clinton, not Ruth Bader Ginsburg, not Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony before Congress. What’s most surprising is that this cooler-than-the-cool-kids novel actually has an emotional center that will make your pulse race.

A tart, irreverent rant of a novel that takes a sharp turn toward something more serious.