The friend who suggested this book for book club prefaced it with “I like this author because nothing is left to subtext”, and that certainly is true! If you are ever looking for a book in which the author tells you exactly what everything means and what everyone is thinking and how you should feel about what everyone is thinking, this is the book.
There are some nice parts, and I am being uncharitable. The core conceit — a human bank robber — is pleasant and feels ripped from Bandit; the characters slowly grow from outright caricatures to sweet outright caricatures (who feel like they’d belong in a Wes Anderson joint, but like, one of the less-regarded ones).
The writing has some nice moments but is comically saccharine. The author’s voice considers themselves authoritatively clever while not actually saying anything particularly clever (an affliction I myself am well-familiar with, from personal experience). I don’t think I was surprised by anything the book espoused.
I would pass on this book, though you could do worse for an airport read.
Because that was a parent’s job: to provide shoulders.