Iris Has Free Time

Modeled on Dante’s Divine Comedy and riffing on Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, Iris Has Free Time is a subtle, complicated, funny, bold, lyrical and literary, sad and wise book about youth, time, and what it means to grow up. An instant classic and essential reading for anyone who has ever been young.
There, I came across a cluster of NYU graduates standing in cap and gown. They were laughing and posing for photos. Was it June again already? Their voices echoed through the subway tunnel. ‘Congratulations!’ ‘Congratulations!’ their parents said. And I wanted to yell, ‘Don’t do it! Go back! You don’t know what it’s like!’
Whether passed out drunk at The New Yorker where she’s interning; assigning Cliffs Notes when hired to teach humanities at a local college; getting banned from a fleet of Greek Island ferries while on vacation, or trying to piece together the events of yet another puzzling blackout I prefer to call them pink-outs, because I’m a girl Iris is never short on misadventures. From quarter-life crisis to the shock of turning thirty, Iris Has Free Time charts a madcap, melancholic course through that curious age one’s twenties when childhood is over, supposedly.