“The work boyfriend. A curious relationship somewhere
between pal and crush.”
Imagine a chicklit novel where you legitimately cannot
predict what will happen at the end. Even
the most intelligent and edgy ones, at core, follow a pretty concrete pattern.
What set The Work Boyfriend by Deanna McFadden apart for me
was having absolutely no clue what the ultimate relationship end for our narrator
Kelly was going to be.
A love letter to Toronto, the midpoint in the previous
decade and to the crazy over-thinking lengths we go to to evaluate our love
lives, McFadden paints a vulnerable and at times bleak portrait of a young
woman, good at heart, who would rather crumble her world of her own volition
than let anyone else take control.
Kelly and Rob have been together for years. Rob is pretty
much the perfect solid boyfriend, if somewhat boring. The sex is boring, his parents’ rich holiday
soirees are boring and their relationship is like a comfy pair of sweatpants:
you super want to crawl into them at the end of the day but sometimes you just
want to pull on that new pair of skinny jeans, no matter how restrictive.
At work, Kelly is drawn to Garrett: earbuds draped around
his neck, a rainbow of eclectic t-shirts, a smile and floppy hair that cause her
stomach to flip each time he passes her cubicle. Garrett and Kelly are good friends—within the
sphere of work--- and both have a sizzling chemistry that the reader knows
should probably stay bottled at the office or the neighbourhood pub when
surrounded by other coworkers.
The timespan of the novel is tight: two weeks give or take
around the Christmas Holidays. But,
Kelly’s mental span is quite realistically elastic: a trampoline that bounces
back and forth from College and the Bad Boy Christian to the present where she
thinks.about.Garrett.all.the.time.
I wanted to not relate to Kelly as much as I did. She screws up. She throws in the towel in
moments she could fight and she seems to think that there is some virtue in
making poor decisions or not letting good things happen to her. Her decisions have consequences and not once
is she clutzy in the typical chicklit fashion. She’s messed up while navigating
a realm of romantic possibility. This is
what separates McFadden from the pastel-coloured fun of Sophie Kinsella, her
narrative voice and warmth what keep her from falling into the trying-too-hard-to-be-edgy
work of Catherine McKenzie. A bit Nick
Hornby, a bit Rainbow Rowell, McFadden has an inimitable voice that is rambly and believable, full of stream of
consciousness backstory that remarkably doesn’t make you want to throw things. The thinking person’s chicklit. And you will
relate. You will relate to Kelly
expressing, frustrated: “ I want to want to marry him. I want to want to have
kids. I want to want all of it, deep down, there’s a quagmire of doubt about
everything. I can’t put my finger on it.”
It’s like Kelly is inviting you to move in her brain for a
stint in a sort of Pixar Inside Out way.
There are some truly beautiful moments in the book. This lyrical and brave book that is
deceptively readable but really super thought-provoking.
“A stillness descended
upon the table, like how a snowfall quiets a forest.”
And, one of my favourite sequences from any book of the past
year. Because this *gets* me
That feeling you get
when you’re in the airport limo driving back down into the city and you see the skyline—the CN
Tower, the condos that litter the lakeshore, the familiar bumps of the Gardiner
Expressway—and then, no matter how much fun you had while you were away[ …]
that warmth spreads through in the back of the car ---that was what I imagined
being married, living with someone for eternity, felt like.
“Winter allowed the
city a moment to hold still for the holidays and let people tuck in nice and
warm. The streets were quiet, dampened by the snow. Before the snowplows,
before anyone shoveled, before pets had to be walked, the sidewalks were crisp,
crunchy even.”
“The air might stop at
nothing to freeze your lungs mid-breath, but I’d never wanted to live anywhere
else.”
“The CN Tower refused
to blink. The stars paused. The air dropped even lower in temperature.”
“Love is tricky. But
now that I know I can stand on my own two feet….”
1 comment:
Well, now I have to read this book too. My list is getting way too long.
Post a Comment