I have never hated any character as much as I hated Anna. I have never wanted to strangle a character as much as I wanted to strangle everyone in this novel. This is 800 pages of Tolstoy's religious, political, agricultural, and philosophical opinions, interspersed throughout painful interactions, unlikeable inner monologues, a confusing timeline, and gaping plot holes/inconsistencies. I wanted to give this book more stars because it's extremely well-written and, for the most part, I greatly enjoyed the first 400-or-so pages. It's all downhill after that, unfortunately, and it really bumped down my rating.
I've read a lot of books, but I've never read a book that made me feel the way this book makes me feel. And I've read A Song of Ice and Fire. It's saying a lot. Trust me.
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