The female narrator I’ve been waiting for. Wickedly funny as well as seriously depressed, she waits while in the psychiatric hospital for the therapy dog that never shows up. Trying to read her face is ‘like trying to figure out what a napkin is thinking.’ Her mania flies ‘like a bat at night.’ A birthday card from her best friend Stella reads: ‘You Put the Fun in Dysfunctional.’ Binnie Kirshenbaum, the great novelist of female neurosis, has given us, in Rabbits for Food, the only story that really matters—a troubled soul deciding if life is worth living or not.