So I finished Stefan Zweig’s “Fear” a few days ago and have little to say about the uneventful ride. It felt like a reality-TV version of Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment,” happy ending and hot-pot wife to boot.
I actively pursued Zweig because Wes Anderson reportedly built “The Grand Budapest Hotel” atop the Austrian writer’s work. But, I must have picked the wrong Zweig book, as “Fear” is not worth the read.
Here, I’ll summarize it for you:
All my married ladies, don’t cheat on your husbands. Especially if this husband is way smarter than your featherweight, booty-swinging self.