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mcwat's review
4.0
An honest, poignant, realistic look at female friendship and what happens when it goes wrong. Some reviews I've read have categorized this as chick lit, and while I do think that there are some chick lit-y, contrived elements to the plot, I think it would be a mistake to dismiss this book as frivolous just because it is concerned with women and friendship. (And even if it were genre fiction rather than literary fiction, what would be so bad about that?)
One of the things I liked best about the book was the way Emily Gould seems to know her characters intimately. As a result, when Bev and Amy make the decisions that ultimately bring about the downfall of their friendship, we fully understand why they do what they do. When it comes to character development, nothing is more important than understanding the motivations of one's characters, and Gould definitely does that. Many of the ill-advised decisions Bev and Amy made were decisions I could see myself making, too—but were these decisions really so ill-advised? At times, it's hard to say. There is a great deal of ambiguity in this book. To my mind, there is one character who deserves more blame for what transpires between the women, but perhaps this is more of a reflection of my experiences with women and friendship and the falling apart of friendships than anything else. Regardless of all that, I think that Gould does not mean for us to sit at a remove from the characters and judge them, not at all. Certainly Bev and Amy would cringe to think that we are judging them.
Friendship is a quick read, but not necessarily a light one.
One of the things I liked best about the book was the way Emily Gould seems to know her characters intimately. As a result, when Bev and Amy make the decisions that ultimately bring about the downfall of their friendship, we fully understand why they do what they do. When it comes to character development, nothing is more important than understanding the motivations of one's characters, and Gould definitely does that. Many of the ill-advised decisions Bev and Amy made were decisions I could see myself making, too—but were these decisions really so ill-advised? At times, it's hard to say. There is a great deal of ambiguity in this book. To my mind, there is one character who deserves more blame for what transpires between the women, but perhaps this is more of a reflection of my experiences with women and friendship and the falling apart of friendships than anything else. Regardless of all that, I think that Gould does not mean for us to sit at a remove from the characters and judge them, not at all. Certainly Bev and Amy would cringe to think that we are judging them.
Friendship is a quick read, but not necessarily a light one.
meghan111's review
3.0
My relationship status with this book is "It's Complicated."
At times I was struck by observations of modern life, like:
At times I was super annoyed by the protagonists and the feeling that this novel was narcissistic and solipsistic on the part of the author. Another book about young white women in New York City who have worked in publishing, who have money problems and feel left out of the wealth around them. The lives of Bev and Amy are so dull in certain ways, so stunted by the cliche of making it in New York. I think the novel was trying to illustrate that point, but sometimes seemed caught up in its own game.
I tried reading [b:How Should a Person Be|9361377|How Should a Person Be?|Sheila Heti|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1329024487s/9361377.jpg|14244846] by Sheila Heti last year, and while I didn't finish it, I appreciated its more picaresque take on similar themes to this book. Also, this is so much like the movie Frances Ha.
At times I was struck by observations of modern life, like:
"'I guess I'm talking about this weird vapidity that women seem to aspire to,' Amy said. 'This kind of Us magazine editorial voice that infects people's actual conversations and lives.'"
"It was getting close to noon now, she was hungry for lunch, and her limbs twitched restlessly because they craved motion, but somehow she couldn't stop mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr, liking photographs of food and animals. Her actual cat lay at her feet, occasionally pawing her and trying to engage her in play, but she fobbed him off with some desultory petting and then continued to ignore him in favor of the cats on the screen."
At times I was super annoyed by the protagonists and the feeling that this novel was narcissistic and solipsistic on the part of the author. Another book about young white women in New York City who have worked in publishing, who have money problems and feel left out of the wealth around them. The lives of Bev and Amy are so dull in certain ways, so stunted by the cliche of making it in New York. I think the novel was trying to illustrate that point, but sometimes seemed caught up in its own game.
Spoiler
Also, I was so disappointed in the use of the trope where a woman goes to have an abortion and then walks out of the doctor's office because she can't go through with it. But I did like how the story ends and how Bev and Amy both end up working in retail! Realistic.I tried reading [b:How Should a Person Be|9361377|How Should a Person Be?|Sheila Heti|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1329024487s/9361377.jpg|14244846] by Sheila Heti last year, and while I didn't finish it, I appreciated its more picaresque take on similar themes to this book. Also, this is so much like the movie Frances Ha.
abbywdan's review
4.0
There was a point when, as a college blogger, I could have applied to work for the internet, but instead I went on my merry way as a nonprofit consultant and an otherwise boring professional life, despite my deep love of the internet. I also wasn't fully occupied during my full time work hours. This meant, as it did for so many people of my generation, that from 2005-2011, I read all of Gawker and then Jezebel daily. The contributors and editors were my internet sentinels and guides, so much cooler than me or anyone I knew in real life, and when I lived in Chicago, they were all things New York. Then I moved to New York and adjusted that reality a LITTLE (they were still so cool, but I've always been too good a kid to smoke, and what is the MATTER with them that they do!?), but I suppose all of this is the reason that I want Emily Gould to succeed, as I want Jessica Grose to succeed and Choire Sicha and Alex Balk and Dodai Stewart and Tracy Egan and all of the old school gang to succeed.
I was really disappointed in Grose's novel a year or two ago, so I was perhaps unfairly prepared to for some level of underwhelmedness with "Friendship," and for the first 20% of the book, underwhelmedness was fully delivered. I texted my friend Sarah Beth to say that "Friendship" was, dreadfully, what would happen if I tried to write a novel: a lot of backstory on where who went to college that reminded me of how bad I am at telling stories that just START, how much the lattes cost, the "dumb" character likes "Eat Pray Love" and the "hip" character has a Comme de Garçons wallet. Eyeroll. There was no plot, there was no novel-worthy challenge, there were just white people problems. If I want to read about white people problems, I will read my own blog. I'm real white, and I have a lot of problems with how the rubbish is picked up in London, for example.
And then at about 40%, something changed. There's an incredible passage about one character losing her virginity--not the mechanics of it or the drama of it, but what it made this midwestern farm gal feel about the rest of her life, not about her body or her non-boyfriend. It's subtle, and it's smart, and it surprised me. There are a few other flashback/character reveal-y moments that breathe through the story like that and take you past the "she swiped through her iPhone photos" and the "would she renew her lease" mundanity.
And then a bunch of shit just falls apart, and suddenly, because you so know who these characters are, you believe the way they deal with everything. The women in the novel selectively compromise like you or me. They are prideful in a good way sometimes and a bad way sometimes, they are believably indecisive and decisive. They are real people, and nothing is perfect, but also nothing is irreparable. I loved that the novel didn't end in a pretty bow or in total desolation. Because life is always somewhere in between.
The thing that struck me the most about "Friendship" is that the women are honest with each other. They talk to one another in a totally veilless, honest way that can only be from years of friendship or that weird feeling of cosmic bonding that happens when you meet someone you have to be friends with in your bones. They are incredible examples of how to do that, and I wish I had the balls to talk to my friends the way these women do. I wish my friends had the balls to talk to me this way. They call out jealousies, they accuse one another of great selfishness, and they love one another so much. I don't know if all of my friendships could withstand all of that or if they should have to. I also grew up in the south, where you would never be that honest about anything, and I live in London, where you would never be that honest about anything, so maybe it's not in the cards for me. But I would certainly like to try to be a better communicator--on the giving and receiving ends--because something about that honesty was SO refreshing.
Anyway. I stayed up till 3am Sunday night finishing "Friendship," and I missed the characters in the morning. I think that means it's a keeper.
I was really disappointed in Grose's novel a year or two ago, so I was perhaps unfairly prepared to for some level of underwhelmedness with "Friendship," and for the first 20% of the book, underwhelmedness was fully delivered. I texted my friend Sarah Beth to say that "Friendship" was, dreadfully, what would happen if I tried to write a novel: a lot of backstory on where who went to college that reminded me of how bad I am at telling stories that just START, how much the lattes cost, the "dumb" character likes "Eat Pray Love" and the "hip" character has a Comme de Garçons wallet. Eyeroll. There was no plot, there was no novel-worthy challenge, there were just white people problems. If I want to read about white people problems, I will read my own blog. I'm real white, and I have a lot of problems with how the rubbish is picked up in London, for example.
And then at about 40%, something changed. There's an incredible passage about one character losing her virginity--not the mechanics of it or the drama of it, but what it made this midwestern farm gal feel about the rest of her life, not about her body or her non-boyfriend. It's subtle, and it's smart, and it surprised me. There are a few other flashback/character reveal-y moments that breathe through the story like that and take you past the "she swiped through her iPhone photos" and the "would she renew her lease" mundanity.
And then a bunch of shit just falls apart, and suddenly, because you so know who these characters are, you believe the way they deal with everything. The women in the novel selectively compromise like you or me. They are prideful in a good way sometimes and a bad way sometimes, they are believably indecisive and decisive. They are real people, and nothing is perfect, but also nothing is irreparable. I loved that the novel didn't end in a pretty bow or in total desolation. Because life is always somewhere in between.
The thing that struck me the most about "Friendship" is that the women are honest with each other. They talk to one another in a totally veilless, honest way that can only be from years of friendship or that weird feeling of cosmic bonding that happens when you meet someone you have to be friends with in your bones. They are incredible examples of how to do that, and I wish I had the balls to talk to my friends the way these women do. I wish my friends had the balls to talk to me this way. They call out jealousies, they accuse one another of great selfishness, and they love one another so much. I don't know if all of my friendships could withstand all of that or if they should have to. I also grew up in the south, where you would never be that honest about anything, and I live in London, where you would never be that honest about anything, so maybe it's not in the cards for me. But I would certainly like to try to be a better communicator--on the giving and receiving ends--because something about that honesty was SO refreshing.
Anyway. I stayed up till 3am Sunday night finishing "Friendship," and I missed the characters in the morning. I think that means it's a keeper.
loudpenguinlisa's review
2.0
I wish I could've liked this book more. It started out so great but eventually just petered out to meh. It has all the promises of a nice easy chick lit book but flames out pretty quick and then tries to tie up the loose ends with a haphazard rush. And then it just ends.
balletbookworm's review
4.0
Yes, I put this on the "badass ladies" shelf. And, at first glance, Bev and Amy don't seem very badass. Bev seems depressed and Amy needs a swift kick in the pants. But then the plot kicks in and Bev gets pregnant and Amy really can't get over herself. These are messy characters because real lives are messy and come with zero how-to instructions and in the end not everything gets sorted out and tied with a neat little bow. And that's when you get to be a badass lady - when you have to sort out all your own shit (a lovely pile that you have often made yourself) and be an adult.
I picked up Friendship this summer after reading some article that basically said novels written by thirty-something women about thirty-something women (particularly in New York) were drivel. Or some crap. I made it about three paragraphs into this "article" before I wanted to burn down the Internet on behalf of Emma Straub, Edan Lepucki, Emily St John Mandel, Emily Gould, etc etc etc.
< sarcasm >Because thirty-something male authors writing about thirty-something males navel-gazing or wanking or bemoaning their lack-of-initiative state are sooo much better. *side-eye Franzen, Roth, Updike, blah blah blah*< /sarcasm >
And this is a good novel. Nice and solid with good voices and characterizations and not over-plotted with tidy resolutions for everyone and everything. I liked it. I hope Emily writes a whole bunch more.
Also, I may have tweeted Emily Gould that I wanted to light one of the male characters on fire. Possibly two, since there is a second douchelord later on in the book only he at least doesn't pull a slut-shaming/are you sure it's mine on the female character. (She kind of agreed)
I picked up Friendship this summer after reading some article that basically said novels written by thirty-something women about thirty-something women (particularly in New York) were drivel. Or some crap. I made it about three paragraphs into this "article" before I wanted to burn down the Internet on behalf of Emma Straub, Edan Lepucki, Emily St John Mandel, Emily Gould, etc etc etc.
< sarcasm >Because thirty-something male authors writing about thirty-something males navel-gazing or wanking or bemoaning their lack-of-initiative state are sooo much better. *side-eye Franzen, Roth, Updike, blah blah blah*< /sarcasm >
And this is a good novel. Nice and solid with good voices and characterizations and not over-plotted with tidy resolutions for everyone and everything. I liked it. I hope Emily writes a whole bunch more.
Also, I may have tweeted Emily Gould that I wanted to light one of the male characters on fire. Possibly two, since there is a second douchelord later on in the book only he at least doesn't pull a slut-shaming/are you sure it's mine on the female character. (She kind of agreed)
simoneandherbooks's review
1.0
I'm sorely disappointed in this book. When I first read about it, I thought it was going to be about the struggles of life and how they contributed to the friendship of two people. But, to me, the book read like two girls whining about how life sucks.
I could have told you that life sucks. I've lived it and I was in the same age range as Bev and Amy in the novel. Yet, my friendships are more complicated than the superficial issues of these two ladies. Mine were existential, psychological, philosophical, and omnipresent. These girls seemed to use any petty issue happening to them to use as a way to get out of the friendship. It was like they were already bored of each other. One leaning on the other for any good reason at all and it was just underdeveloped and trite. And it was only 255 pages! I'm pretty sure there was room for editing to add in more than just ego getting in the way of survival.
I could have told you that life sucks. I've lived it and I was in the same age range as Bev and Amy in the novel. Yet, my friendships are more complicated than the superficial issues of these two ladies. Mine were existential, psychological, philosophical, and omnipresent. These girls seemed to use any petty issue happening to them to use as a way to get out of the friendship. It was like they were already bored of each other. One leaning on the other for any good reason at all and it was just underdeveloped and trite. And it was only 255 pages! I'm pretty sure there was room for editing to add in more than just ego getting in the way of survival.
swampette's review
4.0
I went looking the other day for a "Books to Read in Your 30s" list - it doesn't exist. (The Buzzfeed people aren't old enough.) But whenever it comes into existence, this should be the first book on the list. Emily Gould taps into the experience I think many people have of getting to age 30 and realizing that things have not gone the way you planned or expected.