The Hating Game (a sort of review)
by Sunita
Work has been eating up my every waking moment for the last few weeks, so I’m behind on reading and blogging. I finally took a day off and decided, thanks to an interesting review by Liz at her blog and the subsequent Twitter conversation, to spend part of it reading the latest Hot New Romance. I encourage you to read Liz’s post as well as her discussion with Vassiliki (and also Vassiliki’s review).
This book got a ton of buzz in romance circles when it came out, and it has a load of 5-star reviews at GR and Amazon. I love a good enemies-to-lovers story, but the enemies part has to be well motivated for it to work. This wasn’t. The MCs are assistants to co-CEOs who hate each other (both the assistants and the CEOs hate each other), and aside from that tension, the main reason for their apparent mutual loathing seems to be that they have opposite personalities but are forced to work together after a merger that saved both firms.
I came close to DNFing in the first 75 pages, because I found the setup and the female MC, Lucy, so unappealing. If you take the workplace setting and rivalry as fantasy it is more palatable, but the text implies Lucy is adorable and likeable and I found her to be neither. But once Lucy and Josh stop needling each other and drop their guards a bit, the book improves. The romantic scenes between them are quite sweet.
Overall, though, the book is a misfire. The setting has been scrubbed of any identifying characteristics, so it could be set anywhere with English-speaking white people. Sometimes it feels Australian like the author, sometimes British, sometimes American. Mostly it’s a white fantasyland, which is fine but a bit sterile. There are some weird choices, for example Lucy’s parents own a strawberry farm and that apparently makes her an object of ridicule (there are no organic-food hipsters or farmers’ market aficionados in this world).
The story and characters are straight out of a contemporary category romance. When the story begins they are workplace rivals who seem to find each other hot despite the hate, then they are thrown together (team-building exercise and illness), and then Lucy is Josh’s plus-one at his brother’s wedding. I know I’ve read this wedding/faux-date setup before, in a Liz Fielding, or Fiona Harper, or Marion Lennox, romance. I enjoyed it there and I mostly enjoyed it here, except for the breakfast scene. That was way over the top.
But then, Lucy is over the top. She’s one of those romance heroines who is supposed to be adorable but would be a nightmare in real life. She judges everyone in terms of their physical appearance and denigrates every body type she doesn’t want to emulate or shag. Older coworkers (except for her chic French boss) are heavy, dumpy, gross, and unfashionable (reading this book I learned that there is something called a “Tibetan poncho.” Who knew?). Short stature in a man equals weakness and fragility. The most egregious insults seem to have been scrubbed from the version of the ebook that is currently on sale (see Kelly’s spot-on review for a discussion of these), but there are plenty more sprinkled through it (if you recoil at the use of the term “lame” as an adjective for behavior, this book is not for you).
In real life Lucy’s level of insecurity calls for therapy. I’m kind of surprised that in a book published in 2016 it lands you a hot, smart, kind man with a gorgeous apartment and great cooking skills.
Josh is your standard-issue sweetheart underneath all the insults he throws at Lucy. All his so-called flaws flow from Daddy issues and one adorable psychological trait (which is not so adorable for real people, but here it’s the equivalent of having humility as your worst flaw). Even my Grinchish heart melted a couple of times at his words and actions. Honestly, I thought he deserved better than Lucy, or at least pre-therapy Lucy.
As I said earlier, the romantic scenes between Josh and Lucy are quite sweet (apart from her fixation with his Giant Manly Muscles), and the development of their relationship between when he takes care of an ill Lucy and their time at the wedding is enjoyable to read. But all the stuff around it required deep breaths on my part.
Given this book is 50 pages longer (at least) than a category romance, it was especially odd that there were almost no secondary characters. Lucy and Josh have no friends, and the women are either caricatures or Loving Mother types (including Josh’s mother, who had a successful career as a heart transplant surgeon but is depicted primarily as the family peacemaker).
If you are OK with a story in which meanness and snark turns into goopy romance, this book traverses that spectrum. I went from finding the leads repellent to feeling like I’d read chunks of this book before.
Oh, and it’s 1st POV, present tense. I didn’t notice it that much, but it’s there, and it probably adds to the New Adult/Chick Lit flavor, although frankly if two people are supposed to be qualified to be COOs of a major publishing house, they’ve come of age.
This is my third straight misfire with books that were positively reviewed by reading buddies with whom I usually share romance-novel tastes. At this point I’m pretty sure it’s not the books, it’s me. I think I will stick to not-romance and autobuy romance authors for a while. I don’t know if it’s burnout or what, but I don’t seem to be seeing what everyone else is in these texts.
This is one of those books where I was swept up in the emotions of the best bits while reading it, but the more I think about it afterwards and discuss it with other people, the more disappointed I feel (disappointed in myself, for falling for it? In the book? In the genre for not doing better? All of the above, probably). I’d like to believe a book can be funny without making all these mean mis-steps, but in romance that seems to be hard to find–lots of people feel this way now about Kristan Higgins and SEP, too. I am not sure if it’s because of the body obsession of romance in general, or the reliance on archetypes, or what, but it does seem particularly liable to this kind of thing. Or maybe I just don’t read “funny” books in other genres. I also agree that category romance often does this better, whether because things like the OTT breakfast scene work better in that short, fantasy-focused package or because giving the romance room to stretch out leads to padding and “bad” jokes.
I noticed the lack of friends too. I can understand Lucy losing a friend to the merger and layoffs, but why was that her only friend? It’s part of the placelessness, I think. She has no friends from university? From any previous jobs? It’s like she sprang from the kid on the strawberry farm to an adult with no in between.
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I kept thinking of Susan Bordo’s Unbearable Weight when I was reading this. It’s not surprising that body issues are so front and center in romance novels, given we can’t avoid them in everyday life, and given how gendered they are. Rather than weight, which I guess Lucy didn’t have a problem with, she was obsessed with her lack of height, which of course she has no way to change. But the weight thing was everywhere in her observations about her coworkers (not her or Josh’s family, which I found interesting). Thanks to Kelly’s and your reviews I was prepared for the comments about fatness, but the ageism took me by surprise, and I didn’t anticipate the combination of old + fat.
Everyone’s idea of what is funny, and where the insightful/mean line is in humor, differs, and that has been brought home to me in reading reviews of The Sellout lately. I don’t see how people can fail to see the satire and the anger in the humor in that novel, but clearly they read it differently. So I’m more than willing to say that The Hating Game is funny and I just don’t get it, or the humor is swamped for me by other aspects.
Unlike the SEP and Higgins books, the humor here wasn’t predicated on Lucy’s humiliation, thank goodness, but a lot of it did seem to flow from her insecurities and her loneliness (neither of which were really explained). And that bothered me, because women are already at a disadvantage in most corporate settings, including here, where Josh has an MBA but Lucy doesn’t seem to. So giving her body- and personality-based insecurities at the level she had them felt like punching down. And we do that to our romance novel heroines a lot. The most successful humorous books in romance, for me, are the ones where the heroes get their comeuppance. The heroines already have an awful lot to bear.
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If I want to read stuff this bad, I can read fanfic for free 😦
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The romance sections were actually pretty good, but I couldn’t ignore the rest of it, sadly.
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I’m not sure you should conclude that, Sunita. Can’t it be both the books and you? The genre has changed some in recent years. Market trends are always in flux and they’re not always in tune with an individual reader’s tastes.
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Maybe it’s some of both, you’re right. It is harder to find books that suit my taste, and after proportionately more romance than other genres for the last few years, I’ve run through most of the backlists. Not all, there’s always something out there, but a lot. Also, the more you read the more you see the moving parts, so a book won’t feel fresh to me even though it might to another reader.
And not just market trends (like the Disneyfication of so much historical romance) but also market shifts, e.g., many of my favorite Harlequin authors are writing elsewhere or self-publishing, or have moved to single titles. I still read some of them, but there are fewer autobuy authors for me.
It’s not that I’m not reading; I’ve read great books in other genres and I’m catching up on litfic, which I’ve always enjoyed. But I’m reading a lot less romance.
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I went through a long stretch of not reading much romance in the early 2000s. At the time, humorous contemporaries were all the rage, and historical sales were down, so books in that genre, which had been my favorite, played it very safe.
It took several years for that to change, and in that stretch of time, I read more fantasy, chick lit, and the occasional historical mystery. It was frustrating, and I wondered if it was just me, but then paranormals took off and historicals had a resurgence, and I went back to reading more romance.
The changes that are happening now feel at least as significant if not more so. And you’e right, many authors are shifting career strategies, too.
I’ve been hearing more than a few friends voice dissatisfaction with the reading choices available to them in recent years. In my yahoo romance reading group, a number of readers are seeking older books. Some readers whom I keep in touch with have stopped reading romance almost completely.
Part of that can be ascribed to these readers’ changing tastes. These readers may not all want to same thing, or be dissatisfied in the same way, too. But it can’t all be readers alone, or I wouldn’t be seeing so much of it. This is a turbulent time for the genre, I think.
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I agree with you that Josh deserved much better than Lucy. And the placelessness reminded me of HPM&Bs set in made up Middle Eastern countries which really disconcerts me and I rarely read them (they too are so whitewashed). Ta for the link.
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Oh, that’s a really good comparison. It doesn’t work well for me either, even in Presents (which I treat as total fantasy, at least as far as the post 1990s ones are concerned).
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