Adele
There used to be a review of this book on Goodreads that I think about weekly: “KJ Charles doesn't get the allure of breasts.” It's very true - unfortunately, it's not the main characters who have the more compelling love story in this book, but the gay male side characters, once again. It's a giant shame because there's soooo little good f/f out there, and KJC has the writing chops to deliver. Unfortunately, this was anodyne at best, and did nothing to make the era feel worth visiting either. The whole book lacked drive and spirit and tension. Which fine - it's very consciously a feel good book - but you need something to make an engrossing story. Sitting awkwardly in a room while a Villain Most Dastardly gets himself killed doesn't quite cut it.
From comments: The dynamics are not necessarily inconsistent with the characters, and not prescriptively sexist either. But, to start with the easy one: the height difference between Josh and Lucy is a conventional way of making power differences visible, and it is emphasized to a degree which makes my 4'10” self uncomfortable – and a lot of the time it seems to be the main reason Lucy is even attracted to Josh.
She comes to love the way he can lift her and hold her, but at the beginning, she is aware of the fact that he could overpower and violate her at any moment and seems legitimately scared of him. I know a lot people get tingly feelings at this kind of tension, but in this case I just could not read it as sexy, let alone romantic.
Then there is the fact that he is shown actually working in the office, whereas she mostly makes faces at him and applies lipstick. We're told they're both driven and good at what they do, but in the end it's what one reviewer called “bad competence porn” for women. He is clearly the better fit for the job and has his pick of employers when he leaves, unlike Lucy who is happy to have had even the one offer. Also, he is in much better control of his life than Lucy – I related to her quite a bit in this respect and can accept the fantasy aspect, but in this relationship, she is the underdog in every sense, despite how the author tries to frame them as equals.
I was also not a fan of how shortness was addressed in the book. In comparison to Josh, Lucy's exes are “boy-sized”, bird boned weaklings who, gasp, could not even lift her. The book in general has a wholly disturbing preoccupation with appearances of conventional manliness (think of the bedroom that is “saved from femininity” by a leather headboard – I confess, I laughed at that).
Well, I guess my reaction to the book is also partially explained by feeling for Lucy, so I'm not totally trying to deny its merits :-*
But, ok, let's talk about abuse.
Josh is possessive of Lucy even while she imagines he only wants bad things to her. To me, enjoying this seems odd, but again - I know a lot of people really enjoy elaborate mating games and some even like being fought over, so I don't want to completely slam this aspect of it even if I question it. But real jealousy is definitely a part of their relationship too. Consider scenes like the one where he tells Danny not to call her and slams the phone or
“I'm not being a jealous psycho. I'm just interested.”
“You already won that competition with him. He's my friend now. We are only going to be friends.”
“You haven't answered, though.”
“He's the sensible option. I'm not doing many sensible things with my evenings these days. I'm glad I didn't call him. I'd probably be sitting in a movie, instead of here.” I bounce a little on his lap.
Josh tries to smile, but it doesn't quite work. “I'd go to a movie with you. Look, it's getting late.”
“Oh, my coat. Sure. Whatever. I'm too tired to fight with you tonight. You win.”
He looks confused so I clarify. “You've seen me laugh, and cry. You made me kiss you when I should have slapped your smug face. You've had a good day. Go and watch the game and eat pretzels.”
“That's your problem? You're scared I'm going to report you?” My voice is raising loud enough that bar patrons turn. I take a deep breath and when I speak again I am quieter.
“You've broken me down so completely, I can't even handle it when a guy tells me I'm beautiful.”
I don't know why I kept expecting these essays to surpass the average Everyday Feminism fare. Still moderately interesting (more like distressing) to read of her experiences with NHS in 2016, or her growing up Pentecostal and sick in the USA, in the sense that I am more grateful than ever not to have those experiences. That's kind of not the point though and I'm not entirely sure what is the use of this collection besides publicly claiming her particular experience (which of course I can not criticize) and thus ‘educating' the presumed ignorant reading it as if they never left the internet.
A rare Christie (I can hardly yet call it the only one after reading all of four books of hers), that may still merit reading even if one knows the ending. Still racist and classist, etc, as you might expect, but dispels with many of her appalling adverbs and has some narrative intrigue beyond mere plot. ALSO, a nice bonus: the crime is perfectly solvable!
Impossible not to compare to Blue is the Warmest Color. Both chart a young, perhaps first, love to its apparently inevitable because lesbian?, unhappy end. Maroh gives more detail and infuses her narrative with all the angst one might expect of a fledgling artist; Walden's book is less a narrative than a slightly wistful remembrance of moments past.
On one hand, both are acutely relatable in their earnestness and pretty much immediately recognizable in their use of color. On the other, neither seems capable of story-telling without resorting to lazy cliches that render the whole unfortunately common and forgettable. Maybe someday.
Rating: 3,5 stars, rounded up after giving the book a less critical and more comfort-oriented second reading but critically still unsure.
Review take 2
This was a comfort re-read some months after being mildly underwhelmed the first time, and while I still don't think of Fangirl as a prime example of literature, it served its purpose at the time. I love (and love to hate) some of the characters here, and I love that there are non-judgemental coming-of-age stories out there, even for losers like me.
But I don't think a third read is going to happen anytime soon. At least, I should hope so... Below is, at least for the time being, review number one from a couple years ago.
Expectations: An awesome coming of age story with great, easy-to-identify-with characters and a little annoying take on what it means to be an active fangirl. [I've never been one myself, though. I'm still a bit sad about it.]
Dead on.
Review (the first)
The story itself is not all that original, but it's one that definitely attracts its target audience, and does so for a good reason. It's not too simple or boring, it's sort of cute in all its lightness but does not gloss over the difficulties of growing up, refacing a mother who's not been much of a parent in the last ten years, and adjusting to a new situation in your life in general.
The setting Lincoln/Omaha, Nebraska, USA, the universe, 2011/2012. Easy and everyday-ish without any other fantasy elements than a purrrfict guy a few years older than her.
The prose, while not anything especially nasty, didn't grab me. It's simple and somewhat repetitive, and at times it has too much of a ‘girly YA' feel to it for my liking. Maybe it's the parenthesis that did it. Or the extreme awkwardness of the scenes where Cath the main character is alone.Levi stood in front of Cath, his face serious (for once)(seriously, for once), and his head deliberately bobbing up and down...or a little bit less alone.
It was rarely truly awful but I found myself yawning quite a lot and wishing that the writing would have been more refined and interesting. Then again, whenever Cath was not alone in a scene, Rowell made me see pink bubble gum bunnies all around it was lovely.
No, really. It was. If everything in the book had been as amazing as everything that happened between the characters, Fangirl would have been a 5 star book. Or... at least a 4, anyway.
The characters and relationships between them are the real reason for reading this book. For example, there's Reagan, Cath's roommate and by far one of my favourite characters in the book.“I feel sorry for you, and we're going to be friends.”“I don't want to be your friend,” Cath said as sternly as she could. “I like that we're not friends.”“Me, too,” Reagan said. “I'm sorry you ruined it by being so pathetic.”Now, isn't that just a lovely way to get the main character out of her room and start a very real, if not a little unconventional, friendship between the two of them?
Then there's Cath's family. Her bipolar, fragile, caring father. Her mother who still doesn't want to be a mother.
Wren, the twin sister who still takes up more space and attention than Cath. Who, unlike her sister, deals with her emotions by running away, drinking, getting a life of her own on another dorm - but still has this unbreakable connection with Cath. It doesn't matter that I was a bit baffled in the beginning when Cath tells that she has shared a room with her twin for eighteen years and doesn't want to change a thing. While this relationship didn't always fully convince me (being an identical twin myself, I was a bit suspicious about the execution of this kind of relationship...) but it was really, really good. There's the silent envy and competition, even if it's not really pronounced here. And most importantly, this book shows how identical twins are not one person in two bodies despite being sometimes treated as such but two beings that differ greatly... and have even more in common, on some occasions.
Cath, the more private sister and the main character. On the inside, she was believable and for sure many introverts can relate to her on several levels. I think I'm the more Wren-like twin in my family, but I've still done the “I can't go, there'll be people” thing a lot - and I still do it, but not nearly as much as my sister. While Cath may at times sound like an exaggerated character, she probably isn't. Of course that doesn't mean she's a good main character (to be honest... she isn't, really), but I feel where she's coming from.
I still think she could have employed a bit more of her brain cells at times when she made decisions, and that she sometimes behaves in a way I find hard to accept. (Saying stuff like “actively trying not to make friends” and (view spoiler))
The overwhelming majority of the relationships in the book are painfully well done. The dialogue is awesome and the feelings are beautifully presented and well handled.
The not so great: This is no perfect book. Nick could have had more personality (now it felt like he had only a role) and Levi, while being the ultimate dream guy for a girl like Cath, felt at times too soft and golden.
Nevertheless, these are only minor flaws. What I really would have liked was a sense of community, be that Wren's party people or Cath's fellow fans. I started reading this book expecting to see little to no actual fan stuff thrown in, but still, Cath's life and character are seriously lacking when the fan thing is poorly examined. Most of the time I felt like Rowell didn't really understand or respect what she claimed to be writing about. She ended up writing a nice coming of age book, but for all that it's worth, it isn't quite enough with characters like Cath. Or Wren. Fangirl needs more (ex)fangirly stuff in it, not randomish excerpts of Simon Snow.
The ending: Made me suspect if there was any real growth in this book, which is kind of sad because the book was otherwise so good in what comes to the characters. (view spoiler)
Final conclusion: I don't see much difference between watchcing a film about the same themes and reading this book, actually. But in the end, the good sides of this book easily outweight the not-so-good ones. Fangirl is, if not a life-changing experience, still well worth the read for anyone interested in stories of this kind.
