From an advance review copy for which I thank the publisher.
I did not like the title of this novel, but I started reading it anyway and about 60% in I decided I should have gone with my first instinct. The problem with the title is that it presents the main female character as an appendage or an extension of some guy - subjugated to him, not having an existence of her own. It's a poor choice to depict a character like that particularly when far too many women are so readily marginalized in society anyway.
The idea behind the story is one that I liked, which is why I read this, despite my misgivings over the title. I know that some people, particularly younger readers, are turned-off or even disgusted by May-December relationships, but I am not. I don't even like the term May-December which, if we assign about eight years per month, means the one participant is 40 and the other is in their nineties. A better depiction in this case would be a March-July relationship which sounds much sweeter to me!
All kidding aside, it's none of our damned business when two (or more!) consenting adults choose to be together. It's their choice, not ours; not society's; not the law's; not religion's. In this case, college student Camilla, falls for professor Carl. Her purported BFF (more on that anon) Chelsea, has dire misgivings, but the author offers us no valid reason for her revulsion. Regardless, Carl and Camilla start dating, marry quite soon and seem to be in an idyllic relationship. Camilla quits the professor's classes so the author at least avoids any impropriety in terms of authority figure versus supplicant here. Far too many so-called romance novels are oblivious of power imbalances in relationships.
For me the problem with this one though, is the same problem in very nearly all modern romance novels, which is that it's predicated entirely on sex. There is no meeting of minds. It's not about romance. It's not about any of the big C's: chemistry, commonalities, companionship, or compatibility. No, I'm not talking about carat, clarity, color, or cut! Here, it's all about the sex, and repeated descriptions of that act do not make it more exciting; they make it boring, which destroys the novel because it was only about sex.
Consequently, at that point, I could no longer take this story seriously, and writing sleight of hand couldn't disguise exactly where this story was going. At least, without having read the ending, it seemed to me like it had an awful lot in common with a certain 1959 novel by Robert Bloch
Talking of dates, there was an issue for me regarding exactly when this novel was set. It felt like it was contemporary, but no one seemed to have a cell-phone and Camilla and her BFF never texted each other or emailed - they wrote "letters" to each other, so maybe it was historical, but if so, I was lost because I had no good idea when it took place which further added to the 'fake' aura it projected to me. Maybe somewhere in the text it reveals when it's set, but if so, I missed it.
As so often happens with stories like this one, I found myself much more interested in the main character's friend than I was in plain vanilla Camilla. Chelsea plays a very minor role which seems odd given all the telling we get at the start of the novel as to how close they are and how much they love each other as friends. But that's telling; when it comes to showing, we get very little. It occurs to me that a story about Chelsea had the potential to be much more interesting, and rather less predictable than this one was.
The big betrayal of their BFF myth came when Chelsea revealed to Camilla that she had been accepted into a prestigious art program, and when Camilla asked when she was leaving, she was told it would be the very next day. Seriously? How close could they be if Chelsea has applied to this program, been accepted, and made plans to move her life away from Camilla, and she gives her supposed BFF only 24 hours notice of the entire thing? That, to me, gave the lie to their supposed closeness. The whole story felt exposed for the fakery that it was at that point; it all seemed so shallow.
We're told that Camilla is a young artist, for example but we're never shown that. Oh yeah, we get a mention of her painting and it plays a role in revealing her sickness later in the story, but I never got the feeling that she was an artist at all. Like I said, it was all about sex. She never was an artist, not even in bed! She never talked about art; she never went to any exhibitions or galleries, and we're never shown her actually doing any painting. Again, it felt fake.
The same applied to the professor who was weirdly described as a professor of British literature (not English, British!) As with Camilla, we're never shown any of this side of him. All we get is telling that he arrives home with a bunch of papers to grade. It felt superficial - like frosting on a badly-baked cake. This is why it was amusing (to my warped mind!) to find some technical writing issues. They seemed to fit right in with this threadbare world-building.
At one point I read, "The only light that broke through the dark blanket covering the small kitchen came from the streetlight peeking through the small window above the sink and the dusted chandelier that hung low above the table they had gathered, about to eat." Not only is that a horribly run-on sentence, but it makes little sense. I assume the blanket didn't literally cover the kitchen, but covered the entrance to the kitchen, or maybe a window in the kitchen? Who knows? Even so, why? Why was there a blanket covering anything?
This was just dropped in there without any prior or following reference, and it made no sense. I honestly have no good idea about what author was trying to say there. On top of this - literally - was "...the dusted chandelier..."? Did this mean it had just been dusted or did the author mean it was dusty? And who has a chandelier above the kitchen table?! And "the table they had gathered" Did she mean 'around which they had gathered'? Or should that comma before 'about' have been after it? That sentence was a godawful mess.
Later I read, "...lift her t-shirt, and follow the trail down to her cervical bone. He slipped his fingers inside her panties...." The cervical bone is the first one in your neck right below your skull. The one I think the author means here is the pubic bone, which lies right underneath the mons pubis. Just a wild guess!
At another point I read, "Carl is a tab bit of a weirdo" That would be ‘tad’ not ‘tab’ and since 'tad' already means a very small amount, the ‘bit’ isn’t necessary, although given the lax way people speak this is fine to use in a character’s speech. There were probably other such issues that I missed since I was reading for entertainment and not editing this; fortunately, the novel wasn't replete with them so this wasn't a huge problem. A little judicious editing is definitely called for though.
The real problem though, was with the story-telling here. To me, the story seemed more like a series of disconnected vignettes than a coherent whole, and having timeline jump around only served to confuse things more. Like I said, I DNF'd this when it became too bad for me to continue. Rightly or wrongly, I felt I knew exactly where it was going and it wasn't anywhere engaging to me. I lost interest in it and skimmed for a little while longer, but around 60% I decided I had given this enough chances to appeal to me and it failed. I can't therefore commend it was a worthy read.
