I do not want grand things, to be completely honest. I do not want fame plastered on the pages, flippant of what lies beyond a glittery landscape. I want to revel in the mundane, in the bits and pieces of reality that make it raw and finite. I want to live a life where I notice how a stranger flips the pages of their current read, whether it's at the top–, center–, or bottom–corner. I want to realize what I’ve been missing, what I haven’t paid attention to, like how the sticker of my coffee cup doesn’t peel off no matter how much condensation there is. I want to notice how my friends say my name, how it can be so amusing and so reassuring all at once. It’s not that I want to change my reality—contrary to that. I want it magnified, placed under a microscope, studying it from its atoms until life makes more sense.

Too Much and Not the Mood is precisely that. It is the crevices we fail to take notice of, or purposely ignore. It is the strangers’ faces we forget once they turn their backs. It is the insides of a drawer in our dresser we often forget about. It is the receipts we remove from our wallets once paper bills can’t fit anymore. It is our random internet quizzes’ answers we screenshotted. More often than not, these things are discarded once returned in days, months, years. But sometimes, there will be opportunities to ruminate. You’ll touch a creased paper and remember when and why you wrote that note. You’ll remember what kind of day you were having. You’ll recall what shirt you were wearing, what pair of underwear you randomly plucked out of your wardrobe. I think Durga Chew-Bose did that expertly—the act of digging through the most mundane moments, feelings, perspectives and presenting these to the reader. She examined, investigated the realities she experienced with her five senses through reflective entries and trains of thought. Though it gets derailed, she still forged a rather large space for her writing to breathe, to exist in other people’s lives, and there’s power in that.

While I struggled through the remaining 50% of the essays, I think I am glad I came across this book. I remain wondering what else I am not taking notice of. How many times have I not looked someone in the eye? How many opportunities have I missed to say ‘thank you’ in a sincere way? What are the things I am forgetting, or forcefully erasing from my past? Is there any benefit in remembering it still? 

I’m just slightly sad that I didn’t like it as much as my peers did. It didn’t make me feel much and it didn’t give me any burst of emotion. I still think it was an okay collection that made me think. I’m missing the emotions but maybe even without it, there’s still some merit.

A bit too stream-of-consciousness-y for me. A few parts got me, pulled me in, but ultimately were fleeting

4.5 💫

there are some books that make you feel like you're going through a slump, and some that make you want to take your time and savour it. Too Much and Not the Mood was the latter. it took me a long time to read it, but every few sentences i wanted to pause and reconsider my life. truly a gem. full review to come!!

perhaps better read in small portions rather than back to back. the tendency for list making began to feel grating by the end.