Oh my goodness! I do not know which is more stunning: the writing or the self-delusion of the narrator. Even as she details for us how she ended up checked into an eating disorders rehab center, Anna cannot quite see how things went wrong, nor even that she has a serious problem. Her grasp of the facts seems clear enough; how those facts apply to herself is another matter altogether. The elegantly spare prose, lyrical in its simplicity, hauntingly echoes how (inelegant) spare Anna's frame has become.