Brooke wants. She isn't in need, but there are things she wants. A sense of purpose, for instance. She wants to make a difference in the world, to impress her mother along the way, to spend time with friends and secure her independence. Her job assisting an octogenarian billionaire in his quest to give away a vast fortune could help her achieve many of these goals. It may inspire new desires as well: proximity to wealth turns out to be nothing less than transformative. What is money, really, but a kind of belief?
Alam is scathingly funny ... Entitlement invites comparison to Edith Warton's House of Mirth and Sylvia Plath's Bell Jar ... Books of this calibre transcend personal experience. I barrelled through - propelled by its wit and unshakeable dread - and promptly read it again. Only then could I luxuriate in its tautness. Mundane conversations distil into dazzling singsong and the whole is expertly held together by its narrator's sly interjections. Its stylishness belies discipline, for not a word is wasted. Like New York, it will linger despite its apparently cavalier air Irish Times
Alam's well-honed instinct to endow Brooke with a selfishness that could give any Ottessa Moshfegh protagonist a run for her money – a statement issued here with sincere admiration ... Alam's writing is never more brilliant than when it ridicules corporate America ...The sort of shrewd, propulsive read the word "zeitgeisty" ought to be reserved for







