Female Fight Club Has Zero Magical Realism. A lot of the low-rated reviews of this one claim they expected magical realism in this book and… why? There is literally *nothing* about this book that I can find in the days before its release that would indicate there is a shred of magical realism anywhere near this book… because there isn’t any. Expecting any here is entirely on you, not on the author, and it is a you problem, because again, there is no magical realism in this text. At all.
Instead, what we do get is a rather intense psychological drama that really is a female version of Fight Club in so many ways. Approached from this perspective, the tale actually works quite well indeed, even when it does get a bit quick and hazy with particulars at times.
Pretty well the opposite of light and fluffy bubblegum, this is more akin to a nicely done elk steak – deep, satisfying meat, but slightly atypical for most people in a way that will feel weird at times yet is ultimately quite satisfying indeed. Perhaps best enjoyed with a strong red wine and even, if that is your thing, an equally strong cigar. Again, truly, not that light poolside/ beachside read with a ceviche and a margarita. At all.
But for those that dare… it really is quite fun in its own way, and quite devastating in others – there may in fact be some dusty rooms at times here.
Very much recommended.
This review of The Players Club by Rachel Mills was originally written on May 15, 2026.