Reading Passing was… difficult. I cant describe the vain, the disdain, the utter rage this book gave me. The characters are uninteresting, and the story itself is just as bland. it was a battle inside of me to turn the pages with every word putting me to sleep, like a lullaby that just wouldn’t stop. I am not a fan of books like this, just a story of too women basically living life. there really is nothing unique about them, they are black passing for white, are supposedly gay, witch is still up for interpretation, and are otherwise average people. It should have been titled LIFE THE BOOK. It lacks any conflict that holds my attention, the worst conflict is finding out what people think of you. To someone like me that is utterly despicable. living everyday caring what others think about you is no way to go about it, I don’t care what people think about ME at all, who are they to me? another face and white noise.
