The Flame Throwers

The feeling of being 22.
The feeling of wishing someone, anyone would come find you, save you, tell you who you are and what you should be doing.
The feeling of being alone in a new city.
The blank canvas of your life when you are first cast in to the world.
The terror and desire to prove yourself.
The desire for a connection to something more than yourself (love? art? justice? friendship?)
The credulousness of inexperience.
The willful ignorance of not wanting to know, be responsible.
The hunger for experience, to eat the world in huge starving bites.

The Flame Throwers was a great book. I find myself wondering what happened to everyone after the last page. The magnetic assholes, the ambitious youths, the fragile psyches masquerading as personalities.

It reminded me of some of my favorite "coming-of-age" novels, and like This Side of Paradise and Norwegian Wood, I can picture myself rereading this book and getting more out of it each time. Maybe even more so, since it was a woman's experience navigating the unknown world.