this novel exemplifies everything wrong with the dark academia trend. using memento mori doesn't add to the amosphere, it just feels like a cringeydnf
this novel exemplifies everything wrong with the dark academia trend. using memento mori doesn't add to the amosphere, it just feels like a cringey signifier. the whole setup...it reminded me very much of Immortal Dark, we have a young girl seeking revenge for the death/disappearance of a beloved relative, so she enrols into a powerful/wealthy school/institution, all the while, thinking edgy thoughts about how dangerous and monstrous she is. i wish these books did not take themselves so seriously (again, so edgy ) or truly presented us with an unhinged/subversive protagonist. but instead we get a typical YA heroine who is meant to seem so different because she doesn't fawn over rich/powerful/popular people...but this girl has no real plan or grit. i love revenge stories, i love gray/ambiguous characters, why not give us these instead of this surface-level mimicry of dark academia?...more
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the typeDNF 30%
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the type of book that demands a lot of suspension of disbelief. That Rebecca would just do what Vanessa wants even if it is clearly not part of her job or connected to it (ie: Vanessa is not a tyrant, if Rebecca was to be unjustly fired on the basis of not wanting to agree to do an 'outside job' for her boss). Then again Rebecca can't be all that smart as she then believes that it's a good idea for people to believe that she is Vanessa and that they will understand if she reveals later on that she isn't (where is she living? the moon?!).
What really annoyed me was that Rebecca thinks it's perfectly okay to sneak a photo of a builder's bum as it is a very good looking one so that she can then send it to her friend. The narrative tries to make it so that she is aware that she was being a bit of a perv but it's okay since he then quite rightfully acts in an unfriendly manner towards her (so he deserved it?!). Do pervy, clueless, air-heads make for sympathetic or realistic main characters? Not really. If we were to switch their genders in that scene (so that it is a male sneaking a photo of a woman's bottom, a woman he does not even know or has even seen before)...not so funny right?
Another thing that I noticed was the lack of logic: the builder catches our protagonist red-handed and believing that she is his employer (who he knows is an unpleasant person by her reputation) tells her: "I'd thought you'd be more rottweiler than chihuahua" (which leads us to believe that he is not that threatened by her or her authority over him) before then telling off his mates for not warning him of her arrival as "I could have got myself sacked up there just now". If he was so worried about meeting Vanessa wouldn't he have avoided comparing her to a dog?
The book is also full of lazy stereotypes (like the taxi driver who pats his stomach and talks about his 'missus') that don't really come across as funny or clever takes on real people. There is Rebecca's housemate from hell (who is an exaggerated take on the lazy, smelly, sexist housemate)...Vanessa is an amalgamation of 'devil' bosses found in The Devil Wears Prada and My Not So Perfect Life
My advice is to skip this one!
Merged review:
DNF 30%
I'm starting to get tired of this trend of 'if a girl acts like perv not only it's okay but it's actually funny!' First of all: this is the type of book that demands a lot of suspension of disbelief. That Rebecca would just do what Vanessa wants even if it is clearly not part of her job or connected to it (ie: Vanessa is not a tyrant, if Rebecca was to be unjustly fired on the basis of not wanting to agree to do an 'outside job' for her boss). Then again Rebecca can't be all that smart as she then believes that it's a good idea for people to believe that she is Vanessa and that they will understand if she reveals later on that she isn't (where is she living? the moon?!).
What really annoyed me was that Rebecca thinks it's perfectly okay to sneak a photo of a builder's bum as it is a very good looking one so that she can then send it to her friend. The narrative tries to make it so that she is aware that she was being a bit of a perv but it's okay since he then quite rightfully acts in an unfriendly manner towards her (so he deserved it?!). Do pervy, clueless, air-heads make for sympathetic or realistic main characters? Not really. If we were to switch their genders in that scene (so that it is a male sneaking a photo of a woman's bottom, a woman he does not even know or has even seen before)...not so funny right?
Another thing that I noticed was the lack of logic: the builder catches our protagonist red-handed and believing that she is his employer (who he knows is an unpleasant person by her reputation) tells her: "I'd thought you'd be more rottweiler than chihuahua" (which leads us to believe that he is not that threatened by her or her authority over him) before then telling off his mates for not warning him of her arrival as "I could have got myself sacked up there just now". If he was so worried about meeting Vanessa wouldn't he have avoided comparing her to a dog?
The book is also full of lazy stereotypes (like the taxi driver who pats his stomach and talks about his 'missus') that don't really come across as funny or clever takes on real people. There is Rebecca's housemate from hell (who is an exaggerated take on the lazy, smelly, sexist housemate)...Vanessa is an amalgamation of 'devil' bosses found in The Devil Wears Prada and My Not So Perfect Life
i can get behind a lot of silly nonsense but the way both MCs act is too much for me. they are moronic, their actions make no sense given theirDNF 50%
i can get behind a lot of silly nonsense but the way both MCs act is too much for me. they are moronic, their actions make no sense given their established goals/backgrounds...and dio mio, i thought this type of dynamic had been put to rest. our protagonist is the worst offender. few books have frustrated me as much as this. the world-building was poorly executed, the characters and their motivations were at best random, at worse, devoid of personality and or reason, and the atmosphere was severely lacking. if it had leaned more into its own cheesiness, of being a homage to vampire media aimed at a primarily teen female audience, then maybe i could have kept on reading...but nope, this book thinks it has edge. lots of embarrassing choices made by the storytelling...yikes, just yikes....more
the first pages establish this as a book that might appeal to fans of watt-pad or colleen hoover. the writing is abysmal. our mc doesn't wear muchdnf
the first pages establish this as a book that might appeal to fans of watt-pad or colleen hoover. the writing is abysmal. our mc doesn't wear much make-up, she gets up later than her roomies because that's just like so real, while her li is a pound-shop take on the 'i'm just so deeply fucked up' type of guy (sir, chill. you are just a generic asshole).
i can appreciate romance, cheesy lines, and so forth, but the writing here is cringe in a rather soulless way (so that i can't even enjoy it in a so-bad-it's-funny kind of way). if you like this book, fair enough...to me however this is the type of book that i would categorize as garbage. if it happens to be on your radar i recommend you check out other reviews....more
if you are into gen x nostalgia, look no further. we are introduced to a female character who is beyond unbelievable. while i'm open to variationsdnf
if you are into gen x nostalgia, look no further. we are introduced to a female character who is beyond unbelievable. while i'm open to variations of the manic pixie girl trope, chang takes it to another level (her quirky and brusque manner, meant to signal her uniqueness, often comes across as obnoxious and overly contrived—anyway, this girl was clearly the product of a male creator). the dialogues in general were unconvincing as well so i've decided to call it quits early on. if you are interested in this book pls check out more positive reviews....more
The audiobook edition of Butter spans over 17 hours, yet its narrative could have been condensed inti was excepting something with a bit more bite...
The audiobook edition of Butter spans over 17 hours, yet its narrative could have been condensed into a fraction of that time. The story feels weighed down by excessive filler content, and while its intended themes hold potential they are belabored to the point of being ham-fisted. The characters, particularly the protagonist Rika and her friend Reiko, are often made to behave moronically for seemingly no reason other than to create conflict, but these misunderstandings and instances of idiocy diminished the coherence of the narrative.
The novel revolves around Rika Machida, a journalist in her 30s with a very poor work/life balance. Seeking a hit story, Rika reaches out to Manako Kajii who is currently serving time in the Tokyo Detention Centre after being convicted of the serial murders of businessmen she allegedly lured with her cooking skills. Kaji refuses to see her until Rika, at the suggestion of her friend Reiko, takes a different approach. Rather than asking Kaji about the murders, she asks for her beef stew recipe. As they interact, their exchanges focus more on food and Kaji’s ideas of ‘etiquette’ than murder, prompting not only a personal introspection for Rika but a culinary awakening. Rika’s newfound appetite results in her gaining weight, and we see how that affects the way she is seen by the people in her life. Her boyfriend, who is just as work-oriented as she is, critiques her for it, seeing it as a sign of her ‘letting herself go’, and believes that women should be especially careful of their appearance. Rika’s closest friend, Reiko, also, despite once being outspoken on matters of sexism, expresses ‘concern’ over Rika’s weight, but her remarks may have to do less with Rika’s body than Reiko feeling jealous of Rika’s fixation with Kaji. Inspired by true events, Asako Yuzuki's Butter explores themes of misogyny, obsession, beauty standards and culinary pleasures in contemporary Japan.
The cover and blurb for Butter are somewhat misleading, as the novel proves to be less unsettling than they suggest. While the book does feature vivid sensory descriptions, particularly regarding food—its preparation, aroma, and taste—Yuzuki’s storytelling relied too much on repetitive depictions of glistening lips and sweaty bodies to elicit discomfort. There was an intensity ascribed to these descriptions that made many scenes feel unintentionally over the top (i was reminded of the business card scene from American Psycho…but in Butter these instances lack the former’s self-awareness and are delivered seemingly with seriousness). Butter aligns more closely with contemporary social critiques like Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982, Diary of a Void, Breast & Eggs, Boy Parts, Ripe, The Glow, and Natural Beauty, books that explore themes of women challenging or questioning gender norms and navigating misogyny and beauty standards within various societal contexts.
Throughout Butter, every scene appears to reinforce these thematic points. It delves into the double standards around aging and the pressures faced by women to conform to traditional gender roles, especially within cultures with more conservative values. The novel extensively interrogates ideas surrounding femininity and the expectations placed upon women, particularly the impossible standards of the 'ideal' Japanese woman. While I appreciate narratives featuring diverse portrayals of female characters and exploring complex female friendships, Butter falls short in this regard.
Rika, the protagonist, comes across as painfully uninteresting and exists seemingly only to convey certain messages. Her experiences, such as gaining weight and rejecting societal pressures regarding relationships, feel didactic rather than authentic. Despite Yuzuki’s attempts to depict complexity and contradiction in her female characters, their behaviors often feel contrived and surface-level, emerging only to serve the narrative's thematic agenda. I wouldn't have minded as much if said themes had been explored in-depth, but I found the story's treatment and portrayal of misogyny somewhat superficial. There are several scenes in which Rika reflects on societal expectations regarding women's appearance and behavior (and comes to the conclusion that no, women should not have live their lives in accordance with what men find sexually attractive) and that show her professional integrity being questioned by a male colleague (who assumes that she couldn't possibly have a male friend and that she is exploiting said man to gain information for scoops). And the novel also touches upon the cultural expectations placed on married women to prioritize their husband's well-being, including taking care of household chores and cooking for him.. But I just wanted more, especially given the novel's 'run-time'. But Yuzuki never delves into the more insidious aspects of sexism and misogyny. If anything, I found her takes somewhat naive. For instance, portraying a woman who emerges unscathed after spending time with a dubious man who is certainly a creep and could have also been involved in a murder. The lack of consequences felt overly idealistic to me.
The supposed tension between Rika and Kaji, the central dynamic of the novel, lacked oomph. Kaji's influence on others, including Rika, feels unconvincing given her grating demeanor and, for all her portending to be an expert in culinary matters, her ‘hot takes’ weren’t all that hot. While Rika eventually sees through Kaji's facade, her prolonged influence on Rika's perspective on food and possibly life seems disproportionate to her actual impact. Kaji's character, at first presented in an enigmatic manner akin to Hannibal Lecter had neither the charisma nor depth necessary to maintain my interest.
If Butter had delved deeper into Rika’s experiences at her workplace and prioritized the development of her friendship with Reiko, perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so exasperated at this story. I found the narrative to be full of unnecessary dramatic moments (including Reiko impulsively playing detective to prove…something? What was going through her head? And then what…she just gives up like that?, Reiko is traumatized by her parents' open relationship and by the fact that her husband, like her father, also finds physical intimacy between spouses wrong—using her father’s words almost verbatim—Rika’s own trauma around her father’s death and cooking, the whole stuffed turkey thing at the end). Several plot points are introduced that seem promising enough but ultimately lead nowhere. The characterization of Kaji remains shallow, failing to evolve beyond her initial portrayal, making me wonder to what extent Rika truly understood her ‘twisted’ psyche. The novel’s conclusion was jarringly cheesy, as Rika and the people around her advocate for self-acceptance (a trite "found family" trope is shoehorned for good measure), which felt contrived and lacking in depth.
Rika's inadequacies as a journalist are... noticeable. She’s a shit journalist. She claims to want to write an article on Kaji but her tactics to get Kaji to open up are incoherent (she does what Kaji wants her to do, but then asks very stupid questions or makes tone-deaf remarks—she tactlessly complains about her weight gain—that are bound to alienate someone as demanding and misanthropic as Kaji). Also, why didn’t it occur to Rika, like it did for Reiko, to find the man Kaji was staying with prior to her arrest? The exploration of Kaji's family and past feels cursory, presenting a cliched portrait of a Daddy’s Girl without offering meaningful insight.
The narrative dangles several intriguing threads—such as the implication of a character's predatory tendencies and Kaji's alleged crimes—yet Yuzuki fails to follow these up satisfactorily. Despite being referred to as a serial killer, Kaji's actions and motivations receive only a surface-level examination and consequently Rika's view of Kaji is rather simplistic and her newfound understanding of her feels unearned (Kaji’s vices are emphasized throughout the narrative—her body too is described in a way that left much to be desired as if to emphasize just how ‘uncontrollable’ and defiant to norms she is— but then at the end we are meant to find her pathetic and kind of a victim—of her internalized misogyny, of the public’s gaze, of her need for male validation). Kaji's real life counterpart was also convicted on murder charges despite the lack of evidence, and Japan does have an incredibly high conviction rate...so why did not have Rika question whether Kaji deserved to be convicted? Or seen and spoken of a serial killer...? Kaji is antisocial, narcissistic, callous, manipulative and she doesn't seem to feel any remorse over the fact that she targeted/defrauded men…but then again their relationship seemed to me very much transactional…so why does Rika so readily accepts that Kaji is this 'serial killer'?
Overall, Butter fell short of delivering the darker, psychologically gripping narrative I had hoped for. Rika's journey towards uncovering the ‘truth’ feels aimless, and the murder aspect of the story is glossed over in favor of these overly dramatic moments that fail to provide a meaningful exploration of the novel’s thematic elements. I had expected the novel to explore Rika's (supposed) 'corruption', but it never happened (unless you count gaining weight and learning to love food again as 'bad'). As a result, her own anxiety and Reiko's concern about her growing too close to Kaji seemed somewhat uncalled for. Like, chill. Not like Kaji is urging Rika to kill men. To give the author the benefit of the doubt, one could argue that she deliberately crafted a narrative of smoke and mirrors, teasing depths and thrills without fully delivering on them.
I just was hoping for something darker, something more on the lines of a psychological cat-and-mouse game. Maybe on the lines of The Silence of the Lambs, or something in the realms of Barbara Vine or even My Sister, the Serial Killer. And, sure, maybe I thought that this book would deal with, shall we say, more monstrous appetites (i do love a cannibal story).
Was this novel terrible? No. Was it frustrating? Sure. But, as I said before, it was so annoying as to be almost amusing. The type of book that makes you want to rant to someone about how unbelievably stupid the characters are or how ridiculous the story is.
I wanted to genuinely like this novel as I am fond of the woman-being-weird-about-another-woman subgenre, but Butter missed the mark. Yuzuki's attempt to balance seriousness, realism, and drama didn't quite coalesce into something cohesive, resulting in a narrative that tone-wise felt very uneven. Even her exploration of misogyny, though earnest, lacked depth and wasn't all that thought-provoking. There seemed to be potential in delving deeper into Reiko's experiences as a stay-at-home wife, but her perspective only receives brief attention towards the end of the novel. Similarly, the portrayal of Rika's challenges in a male-dominated industry could have been more compelling, especially considering the doubts cast upon her professional abilities (then again she is a shite journalist so...).
I've read plenty of books that tackle the themes this novel sets out but fails to explore them deeply. And if I were to view it as a slice-of-life narrative about the experiences of women in the workplace, in marriage, and so on, Butter wasn't as compelling as most female-centered dramas out there.
If this novel is on your radar, I recommend you check out more positive reviews or give it a try. Who knows, you might find something in it that resonates with you in a way that it didn't for me.
Also, credit goes to the narrator of the audiobook, Hanako Footman. I really enjoyed her performance and I doubt I would have managed to finish this book if not for her narration....more
i didn't think that in 2024 i would come across this type of old-school YA protagonist: -she's short & unlike other girls has curly hair that dnf @ 10%
i didn't think that in 2024 i would come across this type of old-school YA protagonist: -she's short & unlike other girls has curly hair that cannot be tamed -she's quirky and a bit of a clutz -she's got a snarky sense of humor -she's unpopular
maybe the novel subverts her characterisation along the way or the story ends up demonstrating a certain level of self-awareness but given that i don't feel invested enough in the author's storytelling i don't see myself giving it a chance. the whole premise is just making me think back to authors like Holly Black, Natalie C. Parker, C.L. Herman, Maggie Stiefvater, & co. in short, it's giving 2010s YA. the writing isn't terrible (aside from the humor which...yikes) and maybe young teens who have just gotten into magical realism and or urban fantasy might find this to be a spellbinding read....more
i'm sure that i was meant to find the protagonist flawed but ultimately sympathetic...but i didn't. one of the least compelling and most annoying mcs i'm sure that i was meant to find the protagonist flawed but ultimately sympathetic...but i didn't. one of the least compelling and most annoying mcs i have read of....review to come....more
at this point, i am so familiar with the Sad Girl canon that i find myself inclined to propose an addition of my own...
picture this: a 20-something that this point, i am so familiar with the Sad Girl canon that i find myself inclined to propose an addition of my own...
picture this: a 20-something that’s-literally-me woman revels in her own grime and has not washed in the last 6 months (she finds all bodies to be abject). she collects her own fingernails as a quirky yet gross hobby and spends her days posing as a child on social media to chat with pedophiles, because she's 'just so messed up’. she masturbates to pictures of serial killers or war footage, because yes, she's fucked up and finds human depravity arousing. she only eats foods that start with the letter P and has not seen her reflection in the last 3 years. her favorite pastime? dissociating from reality, of course. her bff? an anorexic named Marie-Françoise (EDs are funny aren't they? get it? ah-ah), who exclusively wears pink and speaks in a nauseatingly babyish voice (they absolutely hate each other). oh, and let's not forget her beloved pet, possibly a dog or even something as out-there as a one-legged albino pigeon, whom she believes is the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte. and yes, of course, she has Mommy or Daddy Issues, sometimes both, and when she has sex with her on-off again bf she pretends that she likes being slapped. and to add some extra 'edge', toss in a few scenes designed solely for shock value—think animal cruelty and copious descriptions of bodily fluids. and to finish off, a supposedly wry social commentary that is as 'fresh' as a slice of stale bread.
actual review:
i'm all for books about 20s women mired by ennui and bickering sisters (such as Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, Candelaria by Melissa Lozada-Oliva, Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi, and Sunset by Jessie Cave), but Alexandra Tanner's Worry is a soulless entry to the She's Not Feeling Good at All subgenre. if i asked AI to write a book in the vein of authors like Ottessa Moshfegh, Mona Awad, and Melissa Broder we would get something along Worry...which is unfunny and unoriginal. the mc’s inner monologue is incredibly derivative of the genre, her interactions with her sister try to go for a grittier grosser take of the sisters from fleabag but fail to. frankly, it's giving Boy Parts (so if you like that one i guess this one is for you too).
additionally, like too many other contemporary novels, Worry pokes fun at social media. if you are to mock online communities, go for it, however, don't include so many threads or comments in your book of said community because they will just age your book and interrupt the flow your narrative (do i care to read about a fictionalized character's brainrot? not really. or to read pages of comments that might as well be taken directly from facebook, X, and or tiktok? no.).
this is satire at its lowest form (a not so distant cousin to the atrocious 'satire' of family guy)....more
Broughtupsy, despite its compelling first few pages, proved to be the type of novel that favors style over substance. And sure, while there are books Broughtupsy, despite its compelling first few pages, proved to be the type of novel that favors style over substance. And sure, while there are books that can pull this off, the 'style' presented by Broughtupsy is both affected and shallow. Striving for a blend of lyricism and immediacy, Christina Cooke’s writing style is not far removed from that of Tumblr poetry. Cooke's excessive reliance on repetition and onomatopoeias comes across as gimmicky and posey. It's unfortunate, given what the novel could have accomplished. I know it's a somewhat overused ‘put-down’, but Broughtupsy did have potential.
The novel centers on Akúa who left Jamaica for Canada as a child, not long after her mother’s death. Now twenty, Akúa is once again grieving, this time the death of her younger brother, Bryson. Seeking to reconnect with her estranged older sister, Tamika, Akúa makes the impulsive decision to spend two weeks in Kingston.
While I’m all for flawed, or even unlikeable, characters, I found Akúa to be both insufferable and not particularly believable. I had a hard time buying into how naive she is and continues to be throughout the novel. Her inability to comprehend diverse perspectives, to accept that people feel different things and or respond differently to the same situations, felt far-fetched. Upon arriving in Kingston, her actions, particularly regarding their brother's ashes, contribute to tensions with Tamika, yet Akúa often perceives others as unreasonable, displaying a self-centered and self-victimizing attitude. Time and time again I wanted to ask her: what did you expect? What possessed you? ...you did this for what?
Despite claiming a desire to reconnect to Tamika, Akúa demonstrates little genuine interest in Tamika, let alone her experiences. Funnily enough, I disliked Akúa so much that, by contrast, even Tamika, someone who is homophobic and seemingly pro-British, appealed to me. The narrative introduces a forced sexual awakening subplot, diverting attention from the sisters' dynamic and Bryson's character, who ultimately serves as a plot device and the catalyst for Akúa's journey. Akúa's love interest is portrayed in a rather objectifying way, and I wish that she had not been so quickly reduced to serve the role of ‘escape’ for Akúa.
The dialogues follow a repetitive pattern, with Character A, usually Akúa, initiating uncomfortable discussions, and Character B refusing to engage in said discussion, so they flat-out ignore A's line of questioning (usually it's the one question being repeated ad nauseam) and talk about something else, but A keeps on prodding, so B is shouting over A, and A just doesn't get why B doesn't want to talk about 'real' things, leading to verbal and sometimes physical altercations.
And of course, we also get flashbacks chapters, where we are introduced to two characters devoid of clear personalities (beyond being racist). Akúa meets them on the first day of school, and, wouldn’t you know, they end up becoming BFFs. The inclusion of a half-heartedly portrayed girlfriend character adds little to the narrative. These flashbacks felt like missed opportunities to delve into Akúa's home life and her relationships with her father and brother.
Cooke’s repetitive writing style was almost as aggravating as Akúa’s character. Repetition can be effective, but here it felt ‘right’ only in one or two instances (i’m thinking of that scene where Akúa is at the airport, or the one taking place in the market). In almost every other instance, Cooke’s use of repetition felt distracting, gimmicky even.
I will say that Cooke’s attempts at creating a cinematic atmosphere are for the most part successful, and the novel’s biggest strength lies in its strong sense of place. Also, while I was clearly not a fan of the novel's execution, I did appreciate the themes that the story had set out to explore (from akúa’s alienation and dislocation to her frustration towards traditional & heteronormative notions of femininity and propriety).
I can think of several titles that that delve into the complex dynamics between sisters—Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi, Sunset by Jessie Cave, Caucasia by Danzy Senna, The Star Side of Bird Hill by Naomi Jackson, Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi—or that feature characters journeying someplace in the hopes of reconciling themselves with their pasts—All the Water I’ve Seen Is Running by Elias Rodriques—or perhaps as a means of escape—The Human Zoo by Sabina Murray—and I'm afraid that compared to those, Broughtupsy just did not make the cut.
The review above is very much subjective, so if you are interested in this novel, I suggest you check out some more positive reviews out....more
i think i can safely say melissa broder's work is not for me. i find her prose obnoxious & swollen. sure, there might be the odd relatable or wdnf 50%
i think i can safely say melissa broder's work is not for me. i find her prose obnoxious & swollen. sure, there might be the odd relatable or witty sentence, but she is trying too hard to be quirky & edgy. more often than not her jokes don't land (with me). and she has a tendency to rely on grossness but these raunchy descriptions or asides did not strike me as clever or effectively provocative. ...more
Reid’s latest novel is a disappointingly wishy-washy affair.
Disclaimer: The review below is negative and ranty. If you happen to have liked this noveReid’s latest novel is a disappointingly wishy-washy affair.
Disclaimer: The review below is negative and ranty. If you happen to have liked this novel or are looking forward to reading it I recommend you give my review a wide berth.
The feeling of being invested in their lives, it was thrilling and terrible.
Reading Come and Get It was akin to waiting for a train that is delayed, so you sit there waiting and waiting, cycling between frustration, hope, and scepticism as the delayed time continues to increase. After hours, or what it feels like hours given your now woolly perception of time, an announcement informs you that your train has been cancelled. This is a roundabout way to say that while reading Come and Get It I kept waiting, anticipating really, for something to happen. Sure, some of my favorite books are plotless, that is, rather meandering in nature. Take Elife Batuman's The Idiot, which like Come and Get It hones in on campus/college life. That book is exceedingly digressive and resists traditional narrative arcs (of conflict and resolution). Yet, I found the novel's sardonic tone and realistically absurd dialogues to be deeply entertaining. But the narrative of Come and Get It seems to operate under the belief that it is providing a story with more dramatic elements, suspense even. As we switch between the novel’s three central figures, I was waiting for the atmosphere of subtle yet present unease (established by that very first chapter and later on compounded by the various character dynamics), to actualize into something more substantial, but it never did! There are a couple of plot points that the characters treat as being pivotal, or as a source of drama, but were actually deeply anticlimactic. The narrative ascribes far too much weight to these two pranks, which were actually just cringe and superfluous. The characters remain one-note, and as with her debut, Reid focuses way too much time on giving page space to deliberately obnoxious and oblivious characters, and doing very little with the person who should have been the novel’s central character (whose characterization can be essentially boiled down to bland yet ‘nice’). The novel seems to promise something dramatic, but nothing ever does. Compared to authors like Brandon Taylor, Ottessa Moshfegh, and Danzy Senna, Reid’s social satire feels tame, and shallow. The novel lacks bite, as it fails to really sink its teeth in its (supposed) themes: from the interplay between race, class, and sexuality, to present us with an uncomfortable close-up of privilege, or to consider how it feels to be a young adult in late-capitalist America. Yet it seems under the assumption that it is this witty and razor-sharp ‘tell-all’ of college life. The novel suffers from a confused identity, it doesn’t know whether it wants to be a satire about an insufferable group of people (think the white lotus or bodies bodies bodies), or a more realistic and earnest portrayal of campus life and (young) adulthood. The novel’s undecided nature made me lose interest in what I was reading and I found myself wishing that the story would either commit to being a parody (a la libba bray's beauty queens) or take a more hyper-realistic approach to college novel (from batuman's aloof duology, to martin chelsea's understated tell me i'm an artist or taylor’s anxiety-inducing real life).
Throughout the novel, which takes place for the most part in the University of Arkansas in 2017-18 (why specify the year when said year bears little weight on the story?), we follow three characters, Millie, Agatha, and Kennedy, who don’t seem like they should belong to the same book. Kennedy was an incredibly derivative take of the 'dumb-blonde' characters like Glee's Brittany, Mean Girls's Karen, or Tiara from Bray's Beauty Queens. Her character would not be out of place in a novel by Moshfegh, Jen Beagin, or Mona Awad (but even then she would be ‘effective’ only as a cameo) or in a campy satirical comedy like Bottoms, Heathers, or Theater Camp…but here she feels out of place. Her ‘arc’, if we can call it that, is risible, as we are expected to care about her internal struggles when said struggles are worded in a way that makes them and her by extension appear idiotic. Her sections feature way too many flashbacks about her bond with her mum-cum-bff, same-y scenes about her wanting to make friends but not being able to, leaving crusty plates in the shared kitchen and feeling ‘attacked’ because her roommates aren’t keen on her industrial quantities of 'childish' stuff, and mentioning that she feels some type of way about Agatha’s book (her exact feelings towards this book are for the longest time never delved into and tbh the way she thinks this book ‘saved’ her felt like a reach given the way her character is depicted as being). We have Agatha, a white lesbian visiting professor in her late 30s who comprises several ethical codes to listen in on the conversations between a trio of besties who spend their time in the college's residence hall. She finds their in-jokes and ways of expressing themselves compelling despite or maybe because they are incredibly vapid, materialistic, and unimaginatively problematic. She keeps going on and on about how interesting their attitude towards money is, yet beyond establishing how unaware of their own privilege these girls are, the narrative doesn’t reveal anything particularly insightful on this subject matter. And yet we are meant to believe that Agatha’s piece on them is a hit and that readers love it. I mean, in this day and age, when plenty of content where people ‘tell’ on themselves on social media…and the things these girls talk about are banal and unfunny. Ironically enough Agatha herself complains during a scene about "hat[ing] stories like this—Getting-There Stories. It was like someone talking about their dreams. They were only interesting to the person they'd happened to." Well, I can say the same about this trio's exchanges, as their banter and gossip did not interest me one bit. One of them, the trio's 'alpha', really wants a dog and thinks it's funny to pull puerile pranks with problematic undercurrents. They are a rather entitled and grating bunch, the caricature of what the collective imagination tends to think of American girls, but even if we accept them as caricatures, they just weren’t that fun. I’d rather watch a clip from an episode of The Simple Life, which is guaranteed to be appealing yet entertaining. Agatha's wonderment at the girls’ ‘modern’ lingo, is rather hard to digest given that she has not been living in a bubble (she interviewed people for her previous books and is a professor and therefore must have been in contact with other young people before coming across this trio). That chapter early on relationship with her ex had some sort of promise, as here Reid is able to give readers a convincing overview of their relationship. Their break-up felt realistic as Reid shows how their age and wage gap, as well as their different values and priorities, slowly begin to sour their domestic life. But then the rest of the chapters that focus on Agatha do not really provide any new insights into her psyche. Despite being aware of the murky morals of writing about a group of (much younger) people without their consent (not only does she exaggerate their flaws but she takes all sorts of liberties when recounting their histories and words), she keeps doing it because it’s just so damn fascinating (it's anything but) to hear these girls talk. Agatha's choices in the latter of the novel seemed unconvincing given that there was really nothing in her previous chapters that indicated that she would be the type of person to go ahead and do what she did. It also made me rather disappointed by the light in which her sexuality is cast… We then have Millie, a 24-year-old Black student and RA who, similarly to Agatha, had a very promising chapter early on, as we learn about how she took time out of college to go back home so she could be close to her mum. I actually loved (yes loved) how the narrative describes their time together, and how their bond with each other is conveyed. It felt true-to-life and it promised a story with some emotional beats to it. But then Millie’s storyline ends up completely focusing on how she wants to buy a house (mais pourquoi ?!), and how compared to every other RA she doesn't/can't take this job lightly, and that she is a Nice Person. Nice she may be but give us something else to work with. I can relate to and believe in characters who are passive, especially in scenes of conflict or when dealing with microaggressions (like in win me something and luster), but Millie isn’t even particularly passive, she is just happens to be "there". Her chapters reveal little about who she is, and I found myself wanting for her chapters to reveal something more than her surface-level kindness. We are led to believe that she develops a crush on 2 characters (characters she has 0 chemistry with) combined with the ‘pranks’ (which again, were both pathetic and bathetic) and her quest for a house, see her adopting a more careless towards attitude towards her role as the residence hall's RA. The ‘consequences’ of this felt dramatic, in an unearned way. There was also something moralistic about her storyline which really didn’t sit well with me. Her being swept up by a romantic tryst and being mildly miffed by the people involved in the prank aimed at her, makes her what, stray from the Good Path…like really? She doesn’t even call out the person responsible for the prank, and yet the fact that she now gives the people involved in this prank a bit of a cold shoulder makes her irresponsible? Bad? Puhlease. Side characters are thinly rendered stereotypes. Reid's older characters were far more convincing than her younger ones, whose words and behaviors ultimately come across as rather affected and cringey. Take Millie's side kicks for instance: the mean lesbian and the sassy gay.
As I kept waiting for a dramatic event or exchange to happen, I found myself growing increasingly annoyed by the novel. From the way the characters are portrayed to the flat dialogue. The prose also left something to be desired as it brought to mind authors whose writing I am on the fence about: Sally Rooney, Emily R. Austin, and Naoise Dolan. It sometimes really struck me as generic, impersonal, and unimaginative. We never delve deep into any one issue or theme, and the college setting felt really underutilized, a gimmick, as we don’t learn much about what any of the characters are studying or how they actually feel about their present and future.
final thoughts: Come and Get It feels like a missed opportunity. It promises something but never delivers. The three main storylines do not mesh well together, the prose is flat, the characters are underdeveloped, and outside of those first introductory chapters, the narrative is monotonous. There were moments of humor that landed, such as: "Ryland, I'm kind of emotional," Millie said. "I have lots of emotional experiences in parking lots. I always have." But these were outweighed by several scenes that are meant to be witty but didn't strike me as particularly clever or new. Reid's satire lacks oomph and her social commentary was neither provocative nor insightful. Even on a purely entertainment level, Come and Get It just did nothing for me. The novel never seems to find its footing, from the pacing to its tone.
I swear that wanted to like Come and Get It, and maybe I would have if Reid had structured her novel as a series of interlinked stories, like Taylor does in Filthy Animals. But at the end of the day Come and Get It was something in the realms of Rooney by way of Curtis Sittenfeld, so if you are a fan of either, you might find Reid's latest to be a much more rewarding reading experience than I did. ...more
the hype around this series astounds me. at best, this was a lacklustre start to a mid-tier shounen series...but, if had to be blunt about it, i'd saythe hype around this series astounds me. at best, this was a lacklustre start to a mid-tier shounen series...but, if had to be blunt about it, i'd say it was f*cking trashy. we have an every-guy type of main character who doesn't have any ambitions beyond touching some tits. that's it. beyond that he has no discernible character traits, no recognizable inner beliefs, niente. look, i don't mind reading about a 'that's literally me' type of male protagonist but you gotta give me something to work with. the world-building is shoddy and the character designs are very generic. there are a lot of pages that felt too empty. i understand that adding background entails more work but i found the emptiness distracting. predictable, uninspired, boring, trite, simplistic, nauseatingly male-gazey, i could go on. maybe if this had leaned more into campy satire i could have overlooked how stupid & fanservice-y this was but it appears that this series is under the delusion that it is dark & gritty. if you happen not to have read this manga i recommend you do not take my review to heart, as i am very much an outlier here so chances are you will be able to vibe with it.
Merged review:
the hype around this series astounds me. at best, this was a lacklustre start to a mid-tier shounen series...but, if had to be blunt about it, i'd say it was f*cking trashy. we have an every-guy type of main character who doesn't have any ambitions beyond touching some tits. that's it. beyond that he has no discernible character traits, no recognizable inner beliefs, niente. look, i don't mind reading about a 'that's literally me' type of male protagonist but you gotta give me something to work with. the world-building is shoddy and the character designs are very generic. there are a lot of pages that felt too empty. i understand that adding background entails more work but i found the emptiness distracting. predictable, uninspired, boring, trite, simplistic, nauseatingly male-gazey, i could go on. maybe if this had leaned more into campy satire i could have overlooked how stupid & fanservice-y this was but it appears that this series is under the delusion that it is dark & gritty. if you happen not to have read this manga i recommend you do not take my review to heart, as i am very much an outlier here so chances are you will be able to vibe with it....more
Spotted: Anna K, a high-society darling with a penchant for horses, Newfoundland dogs, and, of course, scandal.
Kevin Kwan meets Gossip Girl in this Spotted: Anna K, a high-society darling with a penchant for horses, Newfoundland dogs, and, of course, scandal.
Kevin Kwan meets Gossip Girl in this juicy retelling of Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. In Lee’s modern-day adaptation of Tolstoy's classic we follow the drama-filled antics of America’s young and wealthy.
Seventeen-year-old Anna K is the reigning belle of both Manhattan and Greenwich societies. She has it all: an impeccable reputation, a respectable boyfriend, a doting father, an elite education. Until she meets Alexia, aka Count Vronsky, a (supposedly) charismatic playboy unbound by constraints of priority. As sparks ignite and gossip swirls, Anna embarks into a scandalous relationship. Meanwhile, Anna’s brother Steven grapples with the fallout from his unfaithfulness to his girlfriend, Lolly. Lolly’s sister Kimmie, is adjusting to ‘regular’ teen life after an injury cuts her ice dancing career short. She’s also head-over-heels in love with Alexia, much to Steven’s best friend, Dustin, chagrin. Things get even more tricky after a party makes everyone aware of Anna and Alexia’s sizzling attraction.
Having read Tolstoy’s original, it was fun to see how certain plot points and characters would be reimagined for a 21st American setting. Lee's Levin, Dustin, is made far more palatable than his predecessors (thankfully, no cosplaying serfdom to be had here). Unlike the original,Levin/Dustin is relegated to the role of secondary character, with the novel mostly focusing on Anna and Kimmie.
The novel is basically about rich kids behaving badly. We see them cheating, having or wanting to have sex, and doing drugs. Now and again they pursue obnoxious rich people activities, participating in horse races or entering their dogs in beauty pageants.
Compared to other campy satires—But I’m a Cheerleader, Mean Girls, Libba Bray’s Beauty Queens—the teens in Anna K are devoid of distinct personalities beyond catchphrases and hobbies. They resemble reality show contestants, their shallowness bordering on the absurd. They have extravagant parties, get involved in minor and major scandals, the girls spend most of their time talking or thinking about boys, while most of the male characters have the emotional depth of a paddling pool.
Despite dabbling with drugs, and for all their talking of blowjobs, Lee’s teens speak and behave in a babyish lingo. While at times this type of idiosyncrasy can work, Lee’s characters just sound like Disney channel teens. Their lexicon and frame of references also felt off. For a book set in the latter half of the 2010s, there were so many pop cultural references that were dated (the amount of game of thrones references is truly baffling) and not believable. The outdated references combined with the teens’ improbable dialogues seemed unmistakable signs of the generational gap between the characters and their author.
Oddly enough, Lee’s characters share similar beliefs to their 19th century counterparts when it comes to what is proper. It felt as though by making her characters adhere to puritanical beliefs, Lee was able to keep the same conflict between Anna and Alexia/Vronsky as Tolstoy had. Considering the contemporary setting and that most of the adults around the teens are divorced and or have had several spouses, without being exiled from their rarefied world, it made no sense for Anna & co to treat her relationship with Alexia as scandalous.
The novel flirts with serious topics—substance abuse, revenge porn, suicide ideation—but it does so in a very glib, tongue-in-cheek tone, befitting of Gossip Girl. Even when portraying experiences of first love, heartbreak, and jealousy, Lee does so in a frivolous, sensationalist style. Once again, I find myself comparing Anna K unfavorably to Bray’s Beauty Queens. The latter novel pulls off campy satire in a way that Anna K just doesn't. Also, Bray’s characters, however ridiculous, were fun to read about. But Lee’s ones are mostly different shades of annoying. Most of the secondary characters, Kimmie especially, were excruciatingly grating. The two leads, Anna & Alexia, were surprisingly bland, and I wish Lee had imbued them with some zest. Anna is wishy-washy, and Alexia comes across as a generic fuckboi. Anna’s brother, although idiotic and problematic (especially his use of aave), at leasts provides some levity, and it was nice to see how he always has Anna’s back.
Anna K is a read that doesn't demand your undivided attention. It's a frivolous and pulpy retelling populated by a cast of characters who do not sound or behave like actual human beings. The narrative revels in the drama of the rich, poking fun at how inane and shallow the characters are. The novel is undermined by Lee's surface-level satire, which offers little in terms of commenting on privilege, peer pressure, or sexist double-standards. Sure, Anna K is kind of trashy and very stupid, but if you like Kevin Kwan, Curtis Sittenfeld's Eligible, Gossip Girl, or if you enjoy watching reality shows like Made In Chelsea or The Simple Life, chances are you’ll find it to be an entertaining read....more
“Something about him triggered a pulse of recognition; not that he was someone in particular, but that he was like me, blended and uncertain.”
Enter
“Something about him triggered a pulse of recognition; not that he was someone in particular, but that he was like me, blended and uncertain.”
Enter Ghost is the kind of novel that on paper, is exactly my kind of read. Novels focusing on alienated women who travel somewhere they both feel like they belong to but do not, such as The Human Zoo and The Far Field, tend to appeal to me and so do main characters who are a combination of pathetic, churlish, and selfish. And yet, Sonia, our central character, manages to be not only painfully uninteresting, despite her attempts at fashioning herself as interesting and oblique, but profoundly annoying. I am sure that this was to some extent the desired extent but the narrative does suggest that she is far more complex and fascinating a figure than she actually is. Not only did I find her boring and obnoxious but there were several instances where I had a hard time 'buying' into her. She presents herself as this somewhat jaded and remote actor with a tendency to be in relationships with questionable power dynamics (she has an affair with the director of a play she was starring in), but more often than not her internal monologue and her responses to other people's words and actions struck me as sanctimonious and affected.
Still, I am not about to dissuade prospective readers from giving Enter Ghost a chance given that YMMV. If this novel is on your radar I recommend you check out some more positive reviews.
Sonia Nasir, our narrator, is an actress in her late thirties who decides to visit her older sister Haneen in Haifa both to escape tribulations of the heart and, having not visited since the second intifada, to reconnect with her heritage. While Haneen returned to become a teacher, Sonia remained in London to build her acting career. In Haifa, their relationship is uneasy, as their attempts at having meaningful conversations often lead to disagreements and recriminations. As Sonia attempts to form a new understanding of Palestine, she finds herself looking to her past, in particular, a traumatic experience during her adolescence there. Despite Haneen’s lukewarm welcome, Sonia does meet through her Mariam, a director who is working on a production of Hamlet in the West Bank. For all her protestations, and her perplexing not-so-warm feelings toward Mariam, Sonia finds herself travelling to Ramallah with her to play the part of Gertrude. There she meets the other actors, one of whom she is particularly attracted to.
Their production however faces many obstacles, from the long drives and alienating checkpoints they have to go through, but they are all too aware of the ever-encroaching possibility of violence, persecution, and oppression at the hands of Israeli authorities. Mariam’s own brother has come under 'suspicion', and her connection to him may pose a danger to their production. However, Mariam, who believes that their play can be a form of resistance, is determined to make the play work, regardless of outside forces and internecine disputes.
Before I move on to what I did not like about Enter Ghost, I will mention what was effective: Isabella Hammad manages to give readers both an overview of contemporary Palestine and a more intimate close-up of the everyday experiences of Palestinians who continue to live under oppression. The confusion, uncertainty, and anger felt by many of her characters are rendered with clarity and acuity. I also appreciated the author’s exploration of displacement, (multi)heritage, and the way she is able to convey the confusion and sadness that are specific to feeling, or being made to feel, like an outsider in your own culture. Hammad also shows the divide between Palestinians living ‘inside’ Israel and those in the West Bank, without resorting to easy categorisations. So, when it comes to rendering time and place, Hammad certainly demonstrates a skilled hand.
What ultimately made the book a chore was its protagonist, a character that I found improbable, in that her internal monologue was full of anachronism that did not make her into a more realistic character, but an unconvincing actor ("He drew nearer and I shrugged, shrinking with embarrassment and virginity"/"I was ready to be outraged if he kissed me. I imagined his pillowy lips"). That she is under the impression of being this complex and ambiguous person, made her hammy performance all the more egregious. She has so many chips on her shoulder you might as well order an aperitif while you are reading this. I can think of so many books that succeed in portraying the uneasy bond between two sisters who spend a lot of their time bickering and snapping at each other, both of whom believe that the other has had an easier time or is more adjusted than they are, examples being Sunset and Yolk. But here Haneen and Sonia's interactions were stilted in a way that did not seem convincing. That is not me saying that they needed to be close, far from. In fact, I was expecting the narrative to explore how the physical distance between them as well as the diverging paths they took in life caused or contributed to the emotional rift between them. But this didn’t really come through. Their fights just didn’t ring true to me (if they did to you, ben per te) and their dynamic was just underwhelming. And so for the matter was Sonia and Mariam’s ‘friendship’. Sonia spends most of the narrative painting M as being an unpleasant yet fascinating figure, yet, suddenly, we are to believe she cares for her deeply. I never understood her enmity towards Mariam, at one point she describes her as possessing a "straightforward, repugnant, magnetic light"...and it just seemed uncalled for and random to be honest.
And the play...I wasn’t expecting chunks of actual Hamlet to make up the narrative but they do. Not only that but the narrative switches to a play/script format more than once even during scenes where the characters are not rehashing. Maybe this will appeal to others readers, but I found this meta choice to be jarring and not particularly suited to the tone of the narrative. Maybe the rehearsals themselves could have been more interesting if the people taking part were fleshed out, but they are not. Early on the author uses actual character introductions in a way that seems a cop-out at actually ‘showing/establishing’ their personalities and personal histories in a more natural way over the course of the narrative. It did not help that Sonia fails to really see most of them as people, especially the two younger men, for who she has some motherly feelings, and she uses to make points about the male ego. It’s a pity that they are not given more of a voice but flattened to fit Sonia and even Mariam's discourses and theories on male youth, masculinity, and rivalries. Very early on Sonia makes a move on of the actors in a way that was cringe and pathetic, but not in a funny or relatable way, but I later on came to understand that Sonia really thinks she is an intriguing figure ("I had a marketably unusual appearance, or so they said"). Being in Sonia’s head was a tiresome affair as I felt mostly annoyed by her self-pitying, her dull observations and assumptions about other people, as well as her painfully cliched love life.
I would have liked for the story to remain more focused on Sonia’s relationships with her family, her sister and dad in particular, who are often sidelined in favor of Sonia’s navel-gazing, her career retrospective, her farcical projections, whereby Sonia attributes unconvincing motivations and traits people around her, and flashbacks that are clearly meant to make us feel bad for her. The story slowly inches its way forward with few if any emotionally satisfying beats. The main character, despite her self-dramatizing, is a sulky bore, and the people around her never come into focus. Still, even if I found this novel wanting in terms of storyline and character development, Enter Ghost is not an ‘empty’ read as it is a novel that deals with oppression and revolution, and interrogates nations and identities that are displaced and fragmented. I just wish that the author had not created such a boring and unbelievable character and one who fails so spectacularly to be amusing, insightful, and/or interesting. The story feels drawn out and the prose at times tries to be oblique and complex but succeeds only in unnecessarily over-elaborate. The glimpses into their theatrical production and theatre, in general, tended to be more interesting but were more often than not ruined b Sonia's obnoxious explanations and truisms. A lot of the dialogues were stilted, and even if the characters now and again do say something that is 'convincing', they remain thinly rendered figures. I wish that the author had committed more fully to making Sonia into more of a mystifying and detached figure, but it seemed that she did not fully want to commit to making her into a flawed, destructive even, person. Ironically, her attempts at making us feel bad for Sonia, by showing us that her family left her out of the loop and those times shitty men treated her badly (who could have predicted that), only succeeded in making her into a bland shade of 'unlikeable'. I can't see myself re-reading this in order to see if my not liking this book is a case of right book/wrong time but the occasion might rise where I am stranded on a deserted island and this is the only book at hand...
Like I said above, don't take my review to heart given that you may click with Sonia or Hammad's storytelling in a way that I wasn't able to....more
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