I was disappointed in Prozac Nation. The two-voice narrative is a mess. The author seems at first to try to use them for different purposes, but in the end Wurtzel just seems to be flipping a coin to decide whether her text should be oblique or not.
Newsflash: reading pages of oblique text for no reason is not fun.
To my thinking, her editor should have slapped her upside the head and fixed this, but maybe I’m missing some grand (or subtle) difference that she is evoking.
As a memoir, it’s not a bad read, but trying to be anything more it’s a complete failure. The title of the book is the same as the last chapter in the book, where Wurtzel tries to suddenly make meaning out of her story and apply it to the nation as a whole. Until that point, however, it’s just an out-of-order chronicle of her experiences, struggles, and small successes. Her story is a sad (but hopeful) one, and doesn’t read poorly. The half-assed attempt to draw meaning from it in the end is about as effective as most high school essays.
Again, to my thinking, her editor should have forced her to change the title and cut off the portion of the story that was not a memoir. If she wants to write a book about the medication and depression of America, do so, but make it a separate book, or try to interleave the two stories sooner than the last chapter.