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Last night I experienced perhaps the biggest embarrassment of my life. I was a girl. You know, one of those drunk girls who celebrates her thirtieth birthday with her best friends, who are happily married.
The epistolary novel of this famous French philosopher and writer is the life confession of a young girl, Suzana Simonin, which she sends through letters to the Marquis de Croismare.
The novelist's mastery is evident in the way he tells the main story, which, despite all the excursions into peripheral events, flows in a way that keeps the reader's interest aroused until the last page.
