Call It What You Want

From its opening pages, *Call It What You Want* establishes a world steeped in the kind of meticulously observed, almost suffocating domesticity that often belies deeper currents of unrest. DeRogatis introduces us to Eleanor, a character whose life feels both meticulously curated and profoundly unchosen, a paradox she navigates with a quiet, almost imperceptible desperation. The narrative voice is one of precise observation, rendering the mundane details of Eleanor's suburban existence with an acuity that makes them feel charged with unspoken meaning. It is this careful construction of Eleanor's inner landscape, rather than any grand external drama, that forms the novel's beating heart, inviting the reader to lean in and discern the subtle tremors beneath the polished surface.

The novel's strength lies in its unhurried exploration of Eleanor's relationships, particularly with her mother, a figure whose presence looms large even in her physical absence. DeRogatis masterfully portrays the insidious ways in which maternal expectations can shape, and indeed warp, a daughter's sense of self, creating a psychological tension that hums beneath every interaction. There is a delicate balance struck between revealing Eleanor's burgeoning self-awareness and illustrating the deeply entrenched patterns from which she struggles to break free. The prose, often lyrical in its precision, becomes a conduit for Eleanor's internal monologue, allowing us intimate access to her evolving understanding of her own desires versus the roles she has been assigned.

Structurally, DeRogatis employs a largely linear progression, yet interweaves moments of reflection and memory that enrich the present narrative with a sense of historical weight. This approach allows the reader to understand not just *what* Eleanor is experiencing, but *why* she experiences it with such particular intensity. The pacing is deliberate, reflecting Eleanor's own hesitant movements towards self-actualization; it is a novel that asks for patience, rewarding it with nuanced character development and a gradual unfurling of emotional truths. The author's control over tone, shifting between poignant introspection and moments of stark realization, is commendable for a debut.

While *Call It What You Want* excels in its psychological depth and careful character study, it occasionally falters in its plotting, sometimes feeling more like a series of interconnected vignettes than a cohesive, propulsive narrative. There are stretches where the internal monologue, while insightful, takes precedence to such an extent that the external world—and the potential for meaningful interaction or conflict—feels somewhat underdeveloped. This can lead to a sense of stasis, particularly in the middle sections, where the reader might long for a more tangible catalyst for Eleanor’s burgeoning self-discovery beyond her own introspective wrestling. A slightly more robust external framework might have amplified the internal drama, giving Eleanor's revelations a sharper edge.

Ultimately, *Call It What You Want* is a powerful debut, a testament to DeRogatis's ability to render the unspoken complexities of identity and belonging. It is a quiet novel, perhaps, but one that resonates with a profound emotional truth, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of Eleanor’s journey long after the final page is turned. DeRogatis has a clear talent for articulating the subtle pressures that define and constrain us, and her exploration of a woman's quest for authentic selfhood within the shadow of inherited expectations marks her as a voice to watch. This is a book for those who appreciate the slow burn of psychological revelation and the beauty of carefully crafted prose.