text: 
  I was a little wary about the title but this was not at all about weight gain and/or loss; weight was incidental. In this fiercely intelligent novel, Dorothy and Justine are both desperately lonely women, both victims of abuse, and yet are different in other ways. Their parents often failed them, their childhood was often full of shame and self-sabotage, but Gaitskill writes this with complexity, always aware that a victim can also be a victimizer. Gaitskill is never sentimental. Underneath her narrative, underneath the pain and the sex scenes (which are never fully loving) and the disappointments and loneliness, is a raging anger at the inability of human beings to connect - on race, on class, but mostly on gender. I sensed that Anna Granite, the intellectual whose shadow dominates this narrative, and who is the reason Dorothy and Justine first meet, is Gaitskill's platform for displaying her keen intellect; and sometimes there is a hint of didactism. But this is a minor quibble. The last section moved me very much and proved that although Gaitskill abhors sentimentality, she can certainly do sentiment well. `Humanity' is a word often found in this book. Our sexuality is connected to our humanity. Our ability to treat other human beings like human beings is what makes us human. In the end, Gaitskill's brilliant, wonderfully feminist novel was, for me, about how easily we strip each other of our humanity.
  