Lynne Tillman’s latest chronicles a series of one night stands and love affairs across New York, Amsterdam, London and other places in the 1960s. ‘Lost and disorientated women aimlessly drifting through life’ is a genre that makes up a decent chunk of my reading these days, and it’s cool to read a novel from 1982 that reads like it could be one of the hot new books of today. But Weird Fucks’ unforgivable sin is this: the fucks just simply aren’t that weird. As a matter of fact, I just typed the title out as ‘Sad Fucks’ by mistake, which would be a lot more accurate. Most of the sex in this book is either violent or boring, as are most of the relationships. And while this isn’t a problem in and of itself, it’s difficult not to find it disappointing when you were geared up to read about some truly weird fuckery. MG

Published by Peninsula Press