This book might be receiving a lot of attention and the reason is, it’s pretty wonderful. I can’t go back to my copy for quotes for this review because I end up reading it again and I already lost too much time and sleep trying to make myself stop reading it.
Lucy Hutton is the executive assistant to one of the co-CEOs of a recently merged publishing company. Her nemesis and office mate, Joshua Templeman, is the assistant to the other CEO. If the merger between the two houses was somewhat hostile, that negativity is amplified and honed to terrible sharpness in every word Josh and Lucy speak to one another. They deliberately try to annoy each other, from mirroring the other person’s gestures to staring and trading barbs until someone looks away or laughs. Every sentence and every moment is an opportunity to score points off one another, and Lucy isn’t sure how to stop the competition except to win – and there’s no finish line. Just another work day.
Then a promotional opportunity is announced, and they both want it. They’re already so experienced at competing with one another, this level of Game On is the beginning and the end for them. They have a goal, a finish line placed in front of them to finally end the daily combat. Then, after one kiss in an elevator, everything changes. The stakes become much higher, and everything between them becomes much more complicated.
This is a LOT of my catnip. A LOT. Like, Costco-sized portions, but from the way back of Costco where the things you buy require a forklift. YES. THAT MUCH CATNIP. A CATNIP FORKLIFT IS NEEDED IN AISLE SIX.
Here, have a list:
- There is so much humor, so much emotion. The story is told from Lucy’s point of view, and she’s adorably wonderful. She struggles with her height, because she’s very petite, and she struggles with people taking her seriously, and she keeps trying anyway because she refuses to give up on anything she’s determined to do.
- The book is nonstop dialogue that has its own energy. I could probably power the houses on my street if that energy were harnessed. Forget solar power; this book has dialogue power.
- Josh has that intoxicating Pride & Prejudice vibe of, ‘I have impressively strong feelings that I am hiding behind a veneer of aloof crankiness, and I’m 99% skilled at making sure you have no clue about any of my struggles.’
- Oh, so much of my personal favorite catnip on both sides of this couple, only dialed up to 11: I don’t want to like you, I don’t want to like you, I can’t stop thinking about your hair/ your shirt/ your lipstick and DAMMIT ALL TO HELL.
- The contrasts between Josh and Lucy are reflected not just in their personalities, but in the way they dress, and the way they manage their respective jobs, and in the work culture of the two companies that just merged. There is a contrast of leadership styles as well – caring, personable, and effective vs. aloof, prickly, and effective. There’s the artistic side and the objective, analytical side, and even though they’re both determined to win their competition, I as the reader know that no one side can effectively and decisively win that battle – which creates still more tension.
- SO MUCH TENSION. DELICIOUS FLAVORFUL TENSION.
- Everything is coded. There’s smoldering emotional agony hidden and revealed in a few words, and painful personal history concealed in a gesture. You will likely want to go back and read it again once all the codes have been solved and every secret revealed, because you’ll probably see more the second time through. Yes, I did, and yes, I did.
- LAYERS. YUMMY EMOTIONAL LAYERS. PAUL HOLLYWOOD SAYS THESE LAYERS ARE PERFECTLY BAKED. MARY BERRY SAYS THEY ARE SCRUMMY.
- Josh has met his competitive match, and he knows it. He says so, a few times in different ways, but doesn’t trust himself completely and gets in his own way. Lucy has met her match, but doesn’t fully trust herself, either – for entirely different reasons. Then they begin to learn to trust each other after building up a pile of reasons they shouldn’t.
- Both Lucy and Josh have very similar problems and issues, and they’ve hidden them under very different veneers. They’re spinning magnets, basically, or maybe spinning office chairs, attracting and repelling each other at the same time, turning and turning around one another, unable to stop.
Basically, they don’t like each other, but they really like each other.
There’s a lot going on with mirrors, too. There’s the reflective surfaces of the office, the way everything is decorated in chrome, glass, and tile that reflects everything repeatedly, and the way Lucy and Josh mirror one another in an effort to annoy each other. There are mirrors that reflect who they project into the world, and mirrors that reflect who they really are, and I deeply, deeply love stories that explore the tension and reconciliation between the image of who the characters want people to believe they are, and who they really are inside. The tension in the differences between appearance and reality, aggressive and assertive, artistic and analytical, creative and clinical, objective and subjective, expectation and desire, all fold into one another intricately and repeatedly in this story, and there is so much to explore. It’s freaking delicious.
So why no A? Why no squee cannon?
Ableist and offensive language choices. Every time I encountered an example, my buoyant, sparkly joy would deflate. There aren’t many, but when they appear, they stuck pins in my elation, to the point where I grew frustrated with the language of the book itself. The writing is superb and strong and elegant and hilarious except for that one problem, a handful of words which could have been easily fixed, and the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.
For example, there’s one line, late in the book:
In the worst, most ill-conceived and socially retarded way possible.
I have been chasing my tail about this for hours now. Am I being too sensitive and critical? Am I overestimating awareness of how deeply hurtful and offensive “retarded” is when one is not talking about musical tempo or scientific rates of deceleration? I know I’m not the only one bothered by that word, and by some other words in this text, but maybe my estimation of whether it should be used (answer: not ever) and my expectation that it should have been addressed is overly demanding.
Regardless of my potentially inaccurate measurements, this is my review and therefore about my reaction. And it pissed me off, and left me with the feeling that someone, SOMEONE should have known better. I don’t know who or when because a LOT of people go into the process of making one book. But this could have been fixed easily with all these other words that are not going to hurt, that don’t have so much pain attached to them – which is ironic considering how much of the power of this book is built of word choices, with barbs and arrows contained inside compliments and banalities, and vice versa.
Thus, no squee cannon, and no vowel.
Nearly everyone I’ve recommended this book to since reading it has received a caveat about the language, and I have to put one here, too. The language choices in this story present a different level of obstacle for every reader, so I can’t predict how it might affect you, but I want to give ample warning nonetheless.
Beyond that, this book is terrible fun to read. I loved Lucy, and I loved Josh, and I loved that so much of this story is dialogue. I LOVE DIALOGUE. SO MUCH TALKING, and so much conversation between people who love words, and games, and competition.
It is not much fun to say, “I really liked this book, but…” or “I loved this story except there is this one thing I need to tell you….” I wanted this to be an effervescent explosion of how much I enjoyed it, how much I couldn’t get enough of Lucy’s internal monologue and the crackling conversations she had with Josh, of how the tension between them would reach a breaking point and then restart without it being contrived, of how much is revealed at the end and how tempting it is to go back and read the book again once all the clues and tiny signals are revealed.
I genuinely loved this story, and these characters. There’s tension and energy in every word, and I wanted them to figure out their problems so they could be together, even though the part where they were figuring out how to reconcile those problems was the most delicious, so I didn’t want it to end. If your reading catnip, like mine, includes a blend of dialogue that crackles with intensity and emotion, cranky, stoic heroes with hidden, squishy depths, and vivid, self-assured heroines who take exactly zero crap from said hero, you should find yourself a copy of this book.
The Hating Game was wonderful.
It has dialogue so exciting and funny I wanted to happily feast on it like Lucy feasts on every meal she has.
It has emotional moments so poignant and powerful I teared up several times, especially when Josh is trying not to reveal any of the things he’s feeling and mostly succeeding at tucking his true self behind his over-starched shirts and predictably cold facade.
It was nearly everything I love about contemporary romantic comedy and almost everything I adore in a good romance.
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I wonder whether this is a US vs UK English thing: in UK English, we do use retarded as a verb, it doesn’t have the purely negative connotation which is clearly stomping (hard) on all of your buttons. So ‘socially retarded’ to my (English) ears just means socially less advanced, and that works for me in the context without being immediately offensive. But I do agree that a competent editor should have picked up on this, word choices can seriously rankle and pull you out of the story. Where is this novel set?
I had a much older friend who would often talk about a gay frock or time, and she just meant bright and cheerful – there was no homosexual connotation or slur intended at all.
It stands to reason that this manuscript passed through a few people, who obviously did not have a problem with the word “retarded” in this context.
Is this a first-person narrator or third person narrator novel?
This is a HUGE factor on whether I purchase or not.
@Sure Thing: It is first-person present tense. Apologies – I must have edited that part out of the review!
I appreciate the explanation. I think you really summed up the issue nicely–when there are so many other words that could have been used instead without the hurtful connotation, why choose words with them? Moments like that are jarring for me in part because they make me start to question the author’s choices (and not in the fun, let’s-analyze-the-text kind of way).
Will put on my library list!
@Kim: Yes, “jarring” is a very good way to describe every encounter with words like “retarded” or “crippled,” because it removes me from the story and does so in a startling kind of way, like my brain and my whole body made a split-second record-scratching noise.
@Jenny: You may be right about the UK/US/AUS English variations. This book is set in New York, but the language of the dialogue is often not American (an example off the top of my head – “hire care,” instead of “rental car”).
So glad I clicked on this. My library has it on pre-order so I can’t wait to read all the catnip. Thanks for a great review. And yes, that word gets me too.
@SB Sarah–the author is Australian. Actually, the repeated use of British slang by supposedly American characters (unless he/she was described as an Anglophile) would take me out of the story far quicker than the words “retarded” or “crippled” and now I’m hesitant to read this, although the premise sounds awesome.
@Amanda: I can completely understand that. The British/Australian terms, much like the ableist terms that irked me, are no more than a handful. Like I said in the review, it’s really hard to tell what someone else’s limit is, and I think you and I might be opposites in this regard. The regional slang didn’t bug me much, while the other language choices did!
As soon as you mentioned the issue with the word “retarded”, I thought, hmmm, wonder if the author is Australian and sure enough someone said she was. It’s a pity she set it in NYC as some of that language might have felt better if it was set in Australia – we tend to be more easy going with language like that. It is interesting how different cultures respond to swearing or less PC word choices in books – totally different book but I noticed that many of the American reader reviews of the Australian book “The Slap” really focused on the swearing in it but the Australian reviews didn’t really mention it as much. When I read “The Slap”, I hardly even noticed all the swearing so immune to it am I. Anyway, this book looks great, am a bit sick of C grade romances so hope this will be a nice change.
Urban Dictionary always provides fascinating insight:
http://www.urbandictionary.com
Retarded
The R-word, retard(ed), was used in the past to describe a person with an intellectual or developmental disability. Since then, it has morphed into a slang word to mean things like “stupid” or “idiotic.” Many people think it is socially acceptable to use the r-word in this way but the truth is, it hurts and dehumanizes those with an intellectual disability and their family and friends. The Spread the Word to End the Word movement was created to end the pejorative use of the R-word and promote dignity and respect for people with intellectual disabilities. Join the movement by pledging to end the r-word at r-word.org and vote this definition to the top.
I find the word really offensive.
Surely an editor should have picked this up.
But based on your review I’m going to give it a read!
I grew up saying “retarded,” and it’s something I’ve had to unlearn. As an adult I knew it was bad, but not HOW bad until a friend with a developmentally disabled kid clued me in on just how painful its use is for her. Why be hurtful when we have a language full of delightful adjectives? As we know from that spate of Scottish anti-Trump tweets not long ago, there are SO MANY colorful ways to insult someone or express disgust! I agree, an editor should have caught it. Now, today, there is no excuse…even in Australia.
Sorry Marjorie but are you Australian? Because if not I don’t think you get an opinion on what’s acceptable in our country, as I have been reminded many times by Americans when I venture an opinion on gun control.
Hm, I got two notices that someone responded to my comment saying that I had no right to criticize Australians, as a non-Australian, just as Australians have no right to slam Americans and their love of guns. But now I can’t find the comments. Perhaps the person deleted them? In any case, my response would be twofold:
1. This book is distributed in America by William Morrow, an American publisher.
2. There actually IS a movement underfoot in Australia to eliminate the use of “retarded.” Here are two articles from the Australian press about it: http://www.abc.net.au/rampup/articles/2011/09/13/3316570.htm and http://www.dailylife.com.au/news-and-views/dl-opinion/its-time-to-stop-using-the-r-word-20140502-37m92.html.
3. Feel free to criticize the SHIT out of American gun policies, foreigners! I support you! 🙂
Look, I do understand that it’s hard to change one’s speech patterns as a grownup. It’s been hard for ME! (I can hear myself saying it my youthful RI accent, in which it sounds more like vih-TAH-did.) But there are other pejorative terms for other people that were once in wide use and are now viewed with horror and dismay, and I see no reason this shouldn’t join them. (I feel somewhat differently about the way the British use “cunt,” fwiw. I DO NOT KNOW WHY. But I suspect this is NOT THE PLACE for that convo!)
My comment is stuck in moderation but was not deleted
I would agree that as this is an American published book set in America with presumably American characters that the editors should have vetted some of the colloquialisms better. It could very well be that certain word choices might have been appropriate (as in whether the character might use that term not whether it’s socially acceptable to say ssomething) in an Australian setting but it’s likely not in an American setting. I agree with an earlier commentator that that is what would annoy me. I find it really annoying when an Australian novel set in Australia is peppered with American terms like “trunk” and “garbage” so this would be no different.
@Jacqui ‘I would agree that as this is an American published book set in America with presumably American characters that the editors should have vetted some of the colloquialisms better.’ 100% agreed. I handwave Australianisms and Britishisms in fanfic, but if I’m paying for a professionally produced product it definitely pulls me out of the story.
Despite the intriguing premise, I think I’ll have to pass on this one. The use of ableist language is offensive and unnecessary.
I’ve read many professionally produced books where there have still been a few editing errors – they usually get ironed out in subsequent runs. It would be interesting to see what other people think – I’m waiting to see if I have won a free copy before purchasing it. I have skimmed through a few other reader reviews and no one else has mentioned the language so it’s likely it’s pretty limited. Also, I was wondering about context which is important I think in using colloquialisms – for instance you might use the term “d&%$head” in an informal setting with friends (at least in Australia), sometimes even affectionately but not in a work setting so if a character used it socially appropriately that would be ok. In this situation it might be socially appropriate but not culturally appropriate. Anyway, interesting debate.
Kinda of unrelated, but I once came across “wheelchair bound” in a book and was so flabbergasted that I just couldn’t move past it! And it was used to describe the main character’s sister, who she loved and tried to empower up to that point!
I’m sorry but I put up with stupid Americanisms in Australian set books all the time that pull me out of the story and I don’t have a choice about even in a professionally edited book. Why? Because publishers don’t believe that Americans could possibly understand the the boot of the car is actually the equivalent of the trunk. There’s a lot of preciousness and smugness here and its making me a little sick
And in movies too …. and this is slightly off topic but I am pretty livid that Hollywood is going to set the film adaptation of Liane Moriarty’s Big Little Lies in the US with an American cast. American readers embraced the book even though it’s set in Sydney – I’m pretty sure American audiences can manage an Australian cast. But yeah, we do have to put up with culturally inaccurate linguistic annoyances all the time. I also hate it when authors try and write their character’s dialogue in an accent (eg an Indian or Scottish or Chinese accent) – most of the time that’s done really badly. Or when they use just an overabundance of slang to identify the character’s national identity. I found I had to read Kristan Higgins’ book where she has an English hero quite a few times until his speech didn’t jar me too much. I felt like she overdid the English slang in it, it just felt off. But then I imagine it must be very hard to write dialogue realistically let alone from a different culture.
Thank you Sarah for pointing out the language issues. I appreciate your sensitivity to this issue, which as another commented pointed out, is not identified in other reviews of this book.
I usually one-click on books that you have recommended. I still re-read Act Like It and thank you every time I chuckle over the dialogue. However, I will not buy this book.
In the 1990’s, I worked with adults with intellectual disabilities and became accustomed to using “people first” language to describe disabilities. It is a habit that stuck with me throughout the years and when we have welcomed children with various disabilities into our extended family over the last 10 years, I am glad that it did. Perhaps that has made me more sensitive than the average reader to the use of the “R” word and other pejorative terms for people with intellectual disabilities in conversation and also in literature.
Wonderful review Sarah – you captured exactly what I felt as I read it. And I’ve already started rereading it (I just finished it an hour ago) but I want to go back and catch the tiny things I missed
(Totally agree with the R word too. Took me RIGHT out of the story – boo)
Hey – thanks, Mandi! That’s high praise indeed! It is horribly re-readable, isn’t it?
Catching up on reading SBTR and I wanted to add: thank you for pointing out ableism when you come across it. Words matter.
Ok.
Yes wish ‘that’ word hadn’t been used.
But OMG go read this book.
It is utterly gorgeous.
I’m so glad you recommended this book, it was right down my alley and I loved how beautifully the hero apologized.
But since this was a book about small, passive aggressive games, I also play a game when reading contemporaries where I recast the main character as a woman of color in my mind. In this case, I purposefully ignored some physical characteristics and imagined our heroine as a black woman (someone super adorable like the rapper Dreezy who is not very tall and has an utterly magnetic personality, seriously look her up, I love her) but things kind of came to a screeching halt near the end when the hero’s awful father declares: “Even a monkey could get an MBA.”
You know, it’s definitely not intended the way I accidentally ended up reading it as and it’s a pretty common saying, but I think it’s also indicative of how racism has just crept into the ways we talk to each other and our segregated society has allowed us to continue this way. After all, you wouldn’t say “even a monkey could do X” while a black person was in earshot (or at least I hope you wouldn’t) so why do we say it at all? You know, I actually hadn’t really looked at that turn of phrase in that way until this, and I don’t think it’s usually intended to be racist or was intended in this case, but I don’t think I’ll ever use it again now.
(Also if Lucy had been black, people would have good-naturedly tried to made her break dance at the wedding and it would have been embarrassing and horrible among other things. Plus she would have spent six months just wondering if Josh’s hatred was low key racism and feeling vaguely unsafe… but that’s another issue that we’ll ignore, even though I think it would have made the book far, far more interesting.)
Oh and also! I felt the same about the R-word. I think in this case (similar to my comment about the monkey thing) it’s worth calling out because it is very very easy to just use another word, but if we don’t make a fuss about it and just let it go because it doesn’t seem like there were bad intentions, then writers and editors won’t think to do that.
Bronte…”I’m sorry but I put up with stupid Americanisms in Australian set books all the time that pull me out of the story and I don’t have a choice about even in a professionally edited book. Why? Because publishers don’t believe that Americans could possibly understand the the boot of the car is actually the equivalent of the trunk. There’s a lot of preciousness and smugness here and its making me a little sick”
I agree for the most part. I’m an American but I knew the author is Australian and so some of the word choice seemed culturally specific and did not offend me. Actually, I felt keen to read a romance novel by an Australian author.
I did not see references to New York in this novel and wonder how I missed that? I assumed it was set in Australia.
I’m enjoying this so far, after about 60 pages, and expect to continue doing so. I try not to get too hung up on thoughtless word choices but I hope the author reads these comments and takes them to heart. There’s a negative character introduced early on whose nickname includes “Fat,” which is unnecessary. There are plenty of ways to get your point across without that kind of stuff. It’s all a little too juvenile and takes away from an otherwise really engaging story.
Julie James’s “Practice Makes Perfect” has a very similar plot. I love it and re-read it when I’m feeling down. I will probably love this one too.
I know that I’m a little late to the dance here, but I wanted to chime in that I seriously loved this book. I read it in one sitting while on vacation (ignoring my husband and children and extended family for the better part of an afternoon and evening) and the next day sat down to re-read my favorite parts. Yes, it had a lot of my personal book catnip, but it also was just simply good in so many ways. A big “ditto” to everything Sarah loved about the book.
Two other comments: First, like Sharon, I also missed that the book was set in NY. I similarly assumed Australia. For whatever reason, I give a little mental leeway to foreign authors or books set outside the US in terms of potentially offensive language choices. My mother is from England, paternal grandparents from Germany, two brothers-in-law from Australia, etc., and I mostly have learned not to get upset about questionable word choices that may unintentionally offend.
Second, maybe largely because of the aforementioned reason, I wasn’t nearly as offended by the few instances that I noted of potentially offensive language. Yes, they yanked me out of the story, but I was able to dive back in again. And the reason I was able to do that was because the book was so good!! In fact, I think that maybe the questionable word choices stood out more because of their context — like little bits of unground black pepper in an amazingly delicious crab salad. Jarring. But that same thing probably wouldn’t bother me as much in a fast food hotdog.
Loved loved this book! There is no mention that this is set in NYC at all. This is an Australian author who lives in Melbourne, per her author bio, I assumed it was set in Melbourne. It’s also why Australian colloquialisms are rampant and should not offend anyone. Tame your triggers a bit.
Yes, I reread it because I loved it so much and could find nothing American in its setting. It does mention a Starbucks, but I assumed Starbucks is everywhere now. It actually on second read felt even more like an Australian setting.
Regarding the “NYC setting discussion”, it actually never states that it’s set in New York. I feel like it’s purposefully ambiguous so it feels more universal. I wasn’t bothered by the British-isms because it never says it’s NYC or even America. I think perhaps because it’s about publishing, some people are assuming it’s New York when in fact, that business exists in pretty much every capital/big city in the world.
I assumed that it was set in Australia as well. Loved it.
If it helps any of you feel better Cambridge English dictionary defines retarded as something that has been slowed down. Even used in cookbooks “adding too much salt will retard the growth of yeast”
And so on …..
I loved this book! I highly recommend it. It’s funny, and sexy, and if Enemies to lovers is your thing, this is a perfect example.
I had the same doubt about the setting. Sarah, why do you think is set in NY? I saw no geographical references, everybody is white and with anglosaxon names. So it could be NY, or Sydney or London, don’t you think?
I thought it was just me, as I’m neither American nor Australian, but I see that you have the same problem.
So I guess this vagueness is something that the author did on purpose.
Worth pointing out: I just bought this book (as an e-book) and was waiting for the r-bomb… only to not find it. So I searched on it. No dice. Finally, I found the spot where it once was.
The line now reads” In the worst, most ill-conceived and socially stunted way possible.”
(And I agree with Sarah; the book is completely dialogue-powered catnip.)
wow, darice, that’s HUGE that they changed it! this thread had an impact!
I’m Australian, and didn’t notice that word at all. It was the character’s slang and characters should have flaws. How boring otherwise. I have many American friends who use words frequently I would never dare to in public, so there you go. I will say though it’s an ambiguous setting. It’s not NY. It’s not London. It’s not Melbourne or Sydney. I think this is deliberate, but why, I’m not sure. We’d have to ask Ms Thorne. It’s still the best book I’ve read in years. A+ Love, love, love. Highly recommend.