So, I read Little Bee. I felt like my heart was breaking again and again. The part in the book (that repeats) where she figures out how to kill herself when the men come was probably one of the saddest and most beautiful things I have read in a long time. I have to say though, that the end was deeply unsatisfying. Inevitable maybe, but unresolved and a little lalala children of all colors playing together. What was the point? She went through hell, only to get a glimpse of what might make her happy and then she gets caught. I get that she doesn't kill herself when the men finally come, because she wants those moments with batman, and she needs to repay her "debt" by saving him (his life and his need to be a superhero), but what the fuck is going to happen to her next? And boy did this book leave me angry with men: weak, violent, ruiners of everything. I mean not really but sort of. When I think of all of the destruction and sadness caused in the world and in my own life by men I almost forget that my man heals me. Interesting that it was written by a man. I wasn't so sure about the character development of the other woman, you have a woman who would give her finger to save the life of a girl and then she turns out to be kinda a shallow one, self-absorbed and in love with a pathetic loser who she lets into her life right after her husband dies, and then all of a sudden with the redemption. And what the heck is the big secret no one is supposed to give away? Her witness of the suicide? The woman finding Bee's flight and coming along? (I'm guessing that is the one) The tragic ending? There is just so much. I feel like I will read it again, that it almost needs a second read. Anyway, it was a beautifully written book, and I loved the character Bee, she was superbly written.