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The Life of the Automobile
First published in 1929, The Life of the Automobile is a 20th century classic. It captures all the excitement and fear of this new means of transportation. Flamboyant characters like Henry Ford, J.P. Morgan, and Andre Citroen move in and out of its pages, as do the victims of the first car crash and the first car plant strikes. Written when confidence in science was supreme, this novel uncannily predicts the rise and fall of our romance with the automobile.
212 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1929
About the author
Ilya Ehrenburg
256 books88 followersIlya Grigoryevich Ehrenburg (Russian: Илья Григорьевич Эренбург) was a Soviet writer, journalist, translator, and cultural figure.
Ehrenburg is among the most prolific and notable authors of the Soviet Union; he published around one hundred titles. He became known first and foremost as a novelist and a journalist - in particular, as a reporter in three wars (First World War, Spanish Civil War and the Second World War). His articles on the Second World War have provoked intense controversies in West Germany, especially during the sixties.
The novel The Thaw (Оттепель) gave its name to an entire era of Soviet cultural politics, namely, the liberalization after the death of Joseph Stalin. Ehrenburg's travel writing also had great resonance, as did to an arguably greater extent his autobiography People, Years, Life, which may be his best known and most discussed work. The Black Book, edited by him and Vassily Grossman, has special historical significance; detailing the genocide on Soviet citizens of Jewish ancestry, it is the first great documentary work on the Holocaust.
In addition, Ehrenburg wrote a succession of works of poetry.
Ehrenburg is among the most prolific and notable authors of the Soviet Union; he published around one hundred titles. He became known first and foremost as a novelist and a journalist - in particular, as a reporter in three wars (First World War, Spanish Civil War and the Second World War). His articles on the Second World War have provoked intense controversies in West Germany, especially during the sixties.
The novel The Thaw (Оттепель) gave its name to an entire era of Soviet cultural politics, namely, the liberalization after the death of Joseph Stalin. Ehrenburg's travel writing also had great resonance, as did to an arguably greater extent his autobiography People, Years, Life, which may be his best known and most discussed work. The Black Book, edited by him and Vassily Grossman, has special historical significance; detailing the genocide on Soviet citizens of Jewish ancestry, it is the first great documentary work on the Holocaust.
In addition, Ehrenburg wrote a succession of works of poetry.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
January 9, 2022
Ik dacht dat Het leven der auto's een ultra saai boek ging zijn, maar niets bleek minder waar. Lees volgende week maandag mijn uitgebreide analyse in de nieuwe editie van KOELSTOF !
"Suresnes. Lange straten. Er in te wandelen is dom. Men loopt er in des morgens naar het werk, des avonds naar huis om te slapen. De auto’s der touristen razen er doorheen. Zij, die de auto’s die vervaardigen, staan aan de werkbank. De mens kan sterven. De machine mag niet blijven stilstaan. Dat is geen roman; dat is een beursbericht en dat is staatkundige geschiedenis. Voor dichterlijke afdwalingen is hier geen plaats."
"Suresnes. Lange straten. Er in te wandelen is dom. Men loopt er in des morgens naar het werk, des avonds naar huis om te slapen. De auto’s der touristen razen er doorheen. Zij, die de auto’s die vervaardigen, staan aan de werkbank. De mens kan sterven. De machine mag niet blijven stilstaan. Dat is geen roman; dat is een beursbericht en dat is staatkundige geschiedenis. Voor dichterlijke afdwalingen is hier geen plaats."
November 1, 2019
Who knew the sullen journalist so disparaged by Vollmann (for supposedly saying "In wartime every objective reporter should be shot") could write such a wild and Futurist-inspired novel that anticipates the Unabomber's critique of cars, the Situationists' critique of work, and Ballard's Crash--and all the way back in 1929 at that! A huge weird romp with something of the stylistic air of The USA Trilogy to it, at least as it relates to major historical figures moving in small and human ways.
February 10, 2026
Brilliant Books, Idiot Reviewer:
An odd dog, this. Part historiography, part sociology, part fiction, part Futurist fuck sesh. That’s a lot of beats to the bar. Which makes it a book in 4/4, the most staid of rock and/or roll rhythms. Gimme Willie Steele on drums. Or Drumbo. Just shake SOMETHING loose— “BBB huh hhhhhhhh huh g v v horseshit by vvvbbb by ħhhhb!”* I think that about says it all.
* This is what my hands wrote while still holding the phone and falling back asleep writing this stupid piece of shit. Could be the answer to the meaning of life, but probably not.
An odd dog, this. Part historiography, part sociology, part fiction, part Futurist fuck sesh. That’s a lot of beats to the bar. Which makes it a book in 4/4, the most staid of rock and/or roll rhythms. Gimme Willie Steele on drums. Or Drumbo. Just shake SOMETHING loose— “BBB huh hhhhhhhh huh g v v horseshit by vvvbbb by ħhhhb!”* I think that about says it all.
* This is what my hands wrote while still holding the phone and falling back asleep writing this stupid piece of shit. Could be the answer to the meaning of life, but probably not.
March 7, 2025
overhyped hyperbollocks. "This is not a NOVEL." says Ehrenburg.
"Aye right!" say the plain readership. If Marx had been a surrealist poet, he might have written this.
Its virtually unreadable and becomes more and more ridiculous till you throw it away.
"Aye right!" say the plain readership. If Marx had been a surrealist poet, he might have written this.
Its virtually unreadable and becomes more and more ridiculous till you throw it away.
November 21, 2025
European Expressionist novels from the 1930s must be like London buses. You wait for ages and then two come along at the same time.
I’d only just finished - and surprisingly perhaps, much enjoyed - Jef Last’s experimental Dutch novel “Zuiderzee”, when I came across this work by Russian-German emigré, Ilya Ehrenburg.
The book was phenomenally successful - and influential - in the 1930s. It was immediately translated from the original Russian and German versions into various European languages including Czech and Dutch (where it was published under a slightly different title - “10PK” - indicating the horsepower of an early motor car).
While Jef Last’s Expressionist (or “New Objectivist”) novel deals with the impact on ordinary people of the monumental Dutch Zuiderzee draining and reclamation works, Ehrenburg’s work is about another triumph of 20th century engineering, the motor car.
Ehrenburg’s account of a transformational innovation that ends up crushing people (sometimes literally) instead of saving them has many of the distinctive hallmarks of experimental fiction of the 1920s and 30s.
Lest we’re in any doubt about his radical intentions, Ehrenburg’s first words take the form of an author’s note assuring us that “This book is not a novel; it is a chronicle of our time.” His avowedly non-fiction narrative uses many of the structural devices favoured by the Modernist writers of his time. For example:
- Extracts from non-literary factual documents including newspaper articles, factory accident reports, stockmarket bulletins, letters from homesick ex pats, popular songs, diary pages, weather reports and telegrams.
- Not just words but lots of numbers: “Our factories occupy 70 hectares. Our machines have a total strength of 46,000 horsepower. By December 31, 1927, we had put a total of 319,074 cars on the market” (p36) and “Citroën—1,840! 1,845! Buying! 1,860!” (p111).
- An episodic and non-linear structure, jumping around in time between the 1790s to the late 1920s and in place from the assembly plants of Detroit to the rubber plantations of Malaysia via Napoleonic France, bandit-ridden Nicaragua, Weimar Germany, diplomatic The Hague and the Soviet Union.
- Language is used unconventionally to convey different experience. The rhythm of words is emphasised to describe, for example, the percussive jerkiness of “typists clattering away. Lucie Neuville. Number 318. Faster!” (p21) and the deafening barrage in the workshops where “the giant drop-hammers boomed. The milling machines screamed. The boring-machines squealed” (p23).
- It’s also about how printed words look graphically - for example, the cinema audience laughing open-mouthed with “gross guffaws, like the noise of a valve, a laughter of “o” — ho-ho-ho!” (p25).
- And new words are invented to describe wholly new things such as “rationalising production, hence, Citroënizing. A complicated verb! The action is even more complicated” (p45).
- Like a Futurist ballet, humans morph into machines (“instead of fingers, his hands seemed to have chisels, tongs, pliers, drills, braces; inside, an engine replaced his heart” p31) and cars “went howling, screeching, snorting, rattling” like humans (p33).
- In between chapters of facts and numbers (“Men can die. The machine cannot stop. This is not a novel” p82), there’s a sudden swerve into, quite literally, “A Poetic Digression”. This is a conventionally narrated third-person account of a murder trial involving Léon Lafosse, a security guard for the Radio Technology Corporation in the Paris suburbs, who’s accused of shooting André Sabatier, one of a mob breaking into the factory.
- The story of the shooting of André Sabatier is unashamedly political - as is the entire book. Ehrenburg’s concern is always for the ordinary folk at the bottom of the pile who he shows graphically as equally oppressed and abused whether the ruling system is revolutionary Napoleonic, American capitalism or Italy under Mussolini. (Unsurprisingly, communist Ehrenburg isn’t quite so critical of the Soviet regime!) But because the individual has no agency under any of these systems - even financiers are crushed by brutal economics - none of Ehrenburg’s characters are particularly engaging or convincing. They’re just two-dimensional representatives of the systems that oppress them - rather than real people.
To reflect the breathtaking panorama of the new global motor industry, we see the world from a range of different personal perspectives. The diverse cast of individuals range from the famous giants of the automotive industry to fictionalised labourers sweating anonymously in factories and mines. So for example, we meet:
- Philippe Lebon who registers a patent for producing “a gas for an engine with internal combustion” as early as 1799 in revolutionary Paris (p9).
- Monsieur Hay, an unknown “mediocre lawyer” from Poitiers, whose death in an early motor accident is turned by France’s most famous writer, Zola, into a pro-motoring campaign for improved brakes (p14).
- Mister Henry Ford who needs to raise 100,000 dollars to invest in his “so-called Model A. Two cylinders. Eight horsepower” (p15) - to be produced on his new-fangled assembly line with unprecedented speed and efficiency reflected in the language itself: “The wheels revolve in the air. The wheels hurry towards the chassis. A man takes a wheel and attaches it. One wheel. Another man - another wheel” (p19).
- André Citroën employing 25,000 exhausted workers but just as weary himself, “burdened with a mission beyond his strength to supply everyone with a car” (p29) and facing the constant demands of fickle customers and insatiable speculators.
- Pierpont Morgan, head of General Motors, who “could not only change ministers, he could redraw the map of Europe” - so powerful that his transatlantic agreement with Citroën was merely “a detail in a workday, a line in a memo-pad on his desk” (p46).
- Jean Lebaque on the factory floor who discovers that the faster he works, the faster the assembly line moves: “But no, he wasn’t an American machine after all. He collapsed, exhausted. The doctor said he had flu. He himself knew it was despair” (p21).
- André Vidal, laid off after eight years “attaching rods to pistons” in a Citroën factory, dies in his forties and is buried for just five years before “his bones, no pleasant sight, would be dug up, and someone else would be put in his place” (p41).
- Sir Henry Deterding, a simple Dutch lad now boss of global oil-conglomerate Royal Dutch Shell, slyly negotiating oil supplies with Rakovsky, the Soviet Union’s enigmatic ambassador to France.
- Karl Lang, a taxi driver in Weimar Berlin, stressed by the “concatenation of streets amid the fever of traffic-lights” (p134) who has a passenger die on him while being driven to Kaiserdamm 268.
- Comrade K in Moscow, organising oil exports from the Soviet Union to the West (“Petroleum, export, America, and a desk notebook divided into hours and even half-hours” p151).
- Even Winston Churchill makes an appearance, not yet as Prime Minister but as a younger, diversely talented politician who cooks up a trade agreement with US President Herbert Hoover, under which the Americans seem to end up paying even more for rubber from the British plantations in Malaysia (p65).
As befits a story about machines and modernity, we’re confronted with many of the innovations of the early twentieth century - apart from cars - that changed people’s lives completely. For example:
- Worn-out factory-worker Pierre Chardain goes with his wife to his local cinema where “thoughts writhed, legs went to sleep, eyes were dazzled by the mother-of-pearl screen. The projector whirred. The belt kept moving” (p25).
- Rubber-plantation owner Peter Davis numbs his boredom and loneliness with the latest cocktails while fashionable old friends back in London rave about “plays by George Bernard Shaw and concerts by Stravinsky” (p50).
- “200,000 electric bulbs and ninety kilometres of wiring” (p33) illuminate the vast Citroën advert on the Eiffel Tower, as advertising becomes an obtrusive and inescapable part of life.
- Charles Lindbergh, the first Atlantic aviator, also becomes one of the first truly global heroes of the mass media (p35).
- Aeroplanes are changing the world even for those many who never fly, as sky-writing becomes the new way of brand advertising (p35).
- Stockbroker Paul Aubert’s seedy valet, Louis, goes to the dance hall where “he danced all evening with two seamstresses, who snuggled up against his shirt enthusiastically” (p126).
Finally. You might remember my mentioning that, by coincidence, this happens to be the second experimental “non-fiction novel” from the 1930s that I’ve read in the last few weeks. But what’s even more extraordinary is that Ehrenburg’s “Life of the Automobile” actually kind of predicts Jef Last’s novel that was written seven years later.
In a paragraph describing the frantic chaos and overcrowding of the modern world - “People can only live by using their elbows” - Ehrenburg lists random projects aimed at making more space for people. And these projects name-check the sea-drainage and reclamation works then taking place on a vast scale in the Netherlands: “Now Holland is drying out the Zuyder Zee” (p134).
So did Dutchman, Jef Last, read fellow-communist Ehrenburg’s extraordinary book and find local inspiration there for his very own Dutch version - his experimental novel, “Zuiderzee”? I’d love to think so. But probably won’t ever know for sure …
In any case, I actually think Jef Last’s work is better - in the sense, for me, of being more powerful emotionally. His human characters are warmer and more engaging. Ehrenburg’s “not a novel” is clever, surprising, overwhelming. But not warm or human. After all, his point is that humanity has been replaced by the motor assembly line.
I’d only just finished - and surprisingly perhaps, much enjoyed - Jef Last’s experimental Dutch novel “Zuiderzee”, when I came across this work by Russian-German emigré, Ilya Ehrenburg.
The book was phenomenally successful - and influential - in the 1930s. It was immediately translated from the original Russian and German versions into various European languages including Czech and Dutch (where it was published under a slightly different title - “10PK” - indicating the horsepower of an early motor car).
While Jef Last’s Expressionist (or “New Objectivist”) novel deals with the impact on ordinary people of the monumental Dutch Zuiderzee draining and reclamation works, Ehrenburg’s work is about another triumph of 20th century engineering, the motor car.
Ehrenburg’s account of a transformational innovation that ends up crushing people (sometimes literally) instead of saving them has many of the distinctive hallmarks of experimental fiction of the 1920s and 30s.
Lest we’re in any doubt about his radical intentions, Ehrenburg’s first words take the form of an author’s note assuring us that “This book is not a novel; it is a chronicle of our time.” His avowedly non-fiction narrative uses many of the structural devices favoured by the Modernist writers of his time. For example:
- Extracts from non-literary factual documents including newspaper articles, factory accident reports, stockmarket bulletins, letters from homesick ex pats, popular songs, diary pages, weather reports and telegrams.
- Not just words but lots of numbers: “Our factories occupy 70 hectares. Our machines have a total strength of 46,000 horsepower. By December 31, 1927, we had put a total of 319,074 cars on the market” (p36) and “Citroën—1,840! 1,845! Buying! 1,860!” (p111).
- An episodic and non-linear structure, jumping around in time between the 1790s to the late 1920s and in place from the assembly plants of Detroit to the rubber plantations of Malaysia via Napoleonic France, bandit-ridden Nicaragua, Weimar Germany, diplomatic The Hague and the Soviet Union.
- Language is used unconventionally to convey different experience. The rhythm of words is emphasised to describe, for example, the percussive jerkiness of “typists clattering away. Lucie Neuville. Number 318. Faster!” (p21) and the deafening barrage in the workshops where “the giant drop-hammers boomed. The milling machines screamed. The boring-machines squealed” (p23).
- It’s also about how printed words look graphically - for example, the cinema audience laughing open-mouthed with “gross guffaws, like the noise of a valve, a laughter of “o” — ho-ho-ho!” (p25).
- And new words are invented to describe wholly new things such as “rationalising production, hence, Citroënizing. A complicated verb! The action is even more complicated” (p45).
- Like a Futurist ballet, humans morph into machines (“instead of fingers, his hands seemed to have chisels, tongs, pliers, drills, braces; inside, an engine replaced his heart” p31) and cars “went howling, screeching, snorting, rattling” like humans (p33).
- In between chapters of facts and numbers (“Men can die. The machine cannot stop. This is not a novel” p82), there’s a sudden swerve into, quite literally, “A Poetic Digression”. This is a conventionally narrated third-person account of a murder trial involving Léon Lafosse, a security guard for the Radio Technology Corporation in the Paris suburbs, who’s accused of shooting André Sabatier, one of a mob breaking into the factory.
- The story of the shooting of André Sabatier is unashamedly political - as is the entire book. Ehrenburg’s concern is always for the ordinary folk at the bottom of the pile who he shows graphically as equally oppressed and abused whether the ruling system is revolutionary Napoleonic, American capitalism or Italy under Mussolini. (Unsurprisingly, communist Ehrenburg isn’t quite so critical of the Soviet regime!) But because the individual has no agency under any of these systems - even financiers are crushed by brutal economics - none of Ehrenburg’s characters are particularly engaging or convincing. They’re just two-dimensional representatives of the systems that oppress them - rather than real people.
To reflect the breathtaking panorama of the new global motor industry, we see the world from a range of different personal perspectives. The diverse cast of individuals range from the famous giants of the automotive industry to fictionalised labourers sweating anonymously in factories and mines. So for example, we meet:
- Philippe Lebon who registers a patent for producing “a gas for an engine with internal combustion” as early as 1799 in revolutionary Paris (p9).
- Monsieur Hay, an unknown “mediocre lawyer” from Poitiers, whose death in an early motor accident is turned by France’s most famous writer, Zola, into a pro-motoring campaign for improved brakes (p14).
- Mister Henry Ford who needs to raise 100,000 dollars to invest in his “so-called Model A. Two cylinders. Eight horsepower” (p15) - to be produced on his new-fangled assembly line with unprecedented speed and efficiency reflected in the language itself: “The wheels revolve in the air. The wheels hurry towards the chassis. A man takes a wheel and attaches it. One wheel. Another man - another wheel” (p19).
- André Citroën employing 25,000 exhausted workers but just as weary himself, “burdened with a mission beyond his strength to supply everyone with a car” (p29) and facing the constant demands of fickle customers and insatiable speculators.
- Pierpont Morgan, head of General Motors, who “could not only change ministers, he could redraw the map of Europe” - so powerful that his transatlantic agreement with Citroën was merely “a detail in a workday, a line in a memo-pad on his desk” (p46).
- Jean Lebaque on the factory floor who discovers that the faster he works, the faster the assembly line moves: “But no, he wasn’t an American machine after all. He collapsed, exhausted. The doctor said he had flu. He himself knew it was despair” (p21).
- André Vidal, laid off after eight years “attaching rods to pistons” in a Citroën factory, dies in his forties and is buried for just five years before “his bones, no pleasant sight, would be dug up, and someone else would be put in his place” (p41).
- Sir Henry Deterding, a simple Dutch lad now boss of global oil-conglomerate Royal Dutch Shell, slyly negotiating oil supplies with Rakovsky, the Soviet Union’s enigmatic ambassador to France.
- Karl Lang, a taxi driver in Weimar Berlin, stressed by the “concatenation of streets amid the fever of traffic-lights” (p134) who has a passenger die on him while being driven to Kaiserdamm 268.
- Comrade K in Moscow, organising oil exports from the Soviet Union to the West (“Petroleum, export, America, and a desk notebook divided into hours and even half-hours” p151).
- Even Winston Churchill makes an appearance, not yet as Prime Minister but as a younger, diversely talented politician who cooks up a trade agreement with US President Herbert Hoover, under which the Americans seem to end up paying even more for rubber from the British plantations in Malaysia (p65).
As befits a story about machines and modernity, we’re confronted with many of the innovations of the early twentieth century - apart from cars - that changed people’s lives completely. For example:
- Worn-out factory-worker Pierre Chardain goes with his wife to his local cinema where “thoughts writhed, legs went to sleep, eyes were dazzled by the mother-of-pearl screen. The projector whirred. The belt kept moving” (p25).
- Rubber-plantation owner Peter Davis numbs his boredom and loneliness with the latest cocktails while fashionable old friends back in London rave about “plays by George Bernard Shaw and concerts by Stravinsky” (p50).
- “200,000 electric bulbs and ninety kilometres of wiring” (p33) illuminate the vast Citroën advert on the Eiffel Tower, as advertising becomes an obtrusive and inescapable part of life.
- Charles Lindbergh, the first Atlantic aviator, also becomes one of the first truly global heroes of the mass media (p35).
- Aeroplanes are changing the world even for those many who never fly, as sky-writing becomes the new way of brand advertising (p35).
- Stockbroker Paul Aubert’s seedy valet, Louis, goes to the dance hall where “he danced all evening with two seamstresses, who snuggled up against his shirt enthusiastically” (p126).
Finally. You might remember my mentioning that, by coincidence, this happens to be the second experimental “non-fiction novel” from the 1930s that I’ve read in the last few weeks. But what’s even more extraordinary is that Ehrenburg’s “Life of the Automobile” actually kind of predicts Jef Last’s novel that was written seven years later.
In a paragraph describing the frantic chaos and overcrowding of the modern world - “People can only live by using their elbows” - Ehrenburg lists random projects aimed at making more space for people. And these projects name-check the sea-drainage and reclamation works then taking place on a vast scale in the Netherlands: “Now Holland is drying out the Zuyder Zee” (p134).
So did Dutchman, Jef Last, read fellow-communist Ehrenburg’s extraordinary book and find local inspiration there for his very own Dutch version - his experimental novel, “Zuiderzee”? I’d love to think so. But probably won’t ever know for sure …
In any case, I actually think Jef Last’s work is better - in the sense, for me, of being more powerful emotionally. His human characters are warmer and more engaging. Ehrenburg’s “not a novel” is clever, surprising, overwhelming. But not warm or human. After all, his point is that humanity has been replaced by the motor assembly line.
April 16, 2010
I like this book best at the points where it goes to the most abstract: describing the importance of roads by the people who are murdered on them, tires by the people who suffer to collect the rubber, gasoline by the political turmoil created by oil rights. The book is bot history and poetry, but it isn't really a novel. Maybe a creative historical essay of sorts, but not a novel.
One or two of the sections dragged a little, but not so much that they were completely unlikable, but perhaps too dense. The sections that read more like news clippings are less of a strain to get through.
One or two of the sections dragged a little, but not so much that they were completely unlikable, but perhaps too dense. The sections that read more like news clippings are less of a strain to get through.
July 29, 2008
One of my fave strange Soviet-era tomes.
Read
March 24, 2022Sovyet Rus Gazeteci, Romancı İlya Ehrenburg'un "Otomobilli Yaşam" romanını yıllar önce Oda Yayınları yayınladı! "Otomobilli Yaşam" romanı, otomotiv dünyasının bir romanı olması açısından şaşırtıcıdır, İlya Ehrenburg'un gazeteci yeteneğinin getirdiği bilgilerle 20. Yüzyıl'ın otomotiv devrimini romanlaştırmasının edebiyat tarihi açısından hâlâ bir değeri vardır, hatta belki Sovyet edebiyatının dünyaya edebî bakışını gösteren en iyi eserlerden biri olduğunu da yazabiliriz. Sovyet Rus Yazar İlya Ehrenburg, otomotiv devrimini bir yandan objektif bir sosyal bilimci bakışı ile inceliyor, bir yandan da bir romancı bakışı ile otomotiv devriminin ürettiği kişilikleri romanlaştırıyor. İlya Ehrenburg'un, sanayi devriminin 20. Yüzyıl'da yeni atılımlar yapmasının koşulları ile ilgili izlenimleri de "Otomobilli Yaşam" romanının yapısında, eleştirici bir bakışla yer alıyor. İlya Ehrenburg, 1917 Sovyet Ekim Devrimi'nde gazetelerde çalışmış, Birinci Dünya Savaşı ile İkinci Dünya Savaşı'nı bir Gazeteci, bir Romancı kişiliği ile aşmıştı, otomotiv devriminin getirdiği yeniliklere bakışında sarsılmaz bir eleştiriciliği belki bu nedenle de hiç ihmal etmez!
February 7, 2025
i don’t think i’ve read anything like this before… this self-consciously fragmented narrative literally tells the life of the automobile through episodes from the lives of Ford, Citroën, Michelin, and more vis-à-vis the lives of workers, consumers, and communities exploited by the process of making the automobile possibly the biggest commodity of the 20th century.
the narration is raw yet unreliable, obviously biased but continuously moving between lines of solidarity… an unexpectedly fun read…
the narration is raw yet unreliable, obviously biased but continuously moving between lines of solidarity… an unexpectedly fun read…
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews