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A review by thelizabeth
Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist by David Levithan, Rachel Cohn
2.0
BUH you've got to be kidding me.
This book has become pretty famous. I knew lots and lots of things about it going in. I thought I knew what it would be (and I thought I would like it). The surprise: this book is terrible! How did I miss that? Didn't anyone leave any clues? No warning? Well, it's terrible.
The writing on both halves is so immensely lazy, I was kinda shocked. The narration for each point of view is very, very internal monologue -- the kind you can write as fast as you can read, where you don't have to try too hard because literally anything can be justified. If you're Rachel Cohn, for instance, it justifies lots of "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"s and other things that look entirely ridiculous on a page and don't help and just take up space. NO INDEED. Anyway, I don't find this fun to read. Any style at all is preferred to zero style. Why bother, if you're not saying anything? It reads like they didn't want to write a book but a movie pitch. Hey what do you know.
And, well, F to every single thing about Norah. This is Rachel Cohn's fault and also Norah's. I don't even really want to waste my time going into detail with this one. She just sucks and is sorta Mary Suey. A totally ridiculous Cinderella complex, while also being rich and famous in all the coolest places. Is for some reason looked after and enjoyed in these venues instead of put in her place by bitchy people who had to work to get there, as would happen in real life. We're to believe she's going to "run" a Lower East Side rock club when she's 19. With all the emphasis on her great taste and opinionations -- it's realistic teenage bravado, sure, but there is literally nothing thrown against any of this in the book, no spaghetti sliding down the wall at all, so I have to conclude that the shortsightedness isn't author commentary but author thumbs-up. And, no thanks. "Being perfect" is not the type of fantasy that I fancy in my fiction.
(Sidebar: Can we please get a new word for Mary Sue? Oh I hate that word. Also a new word for "manic pixie dream girl," but I can submit a separate ticket for that issue.)
David Levithan doesn't come off so hot either. However, Nick's chapters are way, way severely more together, more evocative, more reflecting of what's supposedly around them. The only parts that work at all are Levithan's. Including the one bit of good, solid YA reflection in the whole thing, right in the middle when they're separated and Nick is bummed. I genuinely appreciated about two pages of that chapter. Way to go, chapter!
Both authors are guilty of magical side characters made out of slightly offensive stereotypes. Like the tranny with the heart of gold who wants nothing more than to be involved in the budding relationship of two bougie teenagers and give them advice. And the brusque first-generation cab driver who turns out to be a caring family man, also willing to go out of his way to make this belligerent girl feel better, without question or asking where her parents are, like would happen in real life.
There is also some "teenagers as gods" syndrome in this book. They have no rules from parents to obey, they drink, they swear, they rock, they have sex, and all with aplomb. And see. The thing. To me it's not that these things aren't experienced by teenagers at all, or a lot -- but um. For the most part, they are really not any good at them. They will do them and be so bad at them. That's part of the deal. That's part of their pathos and irritation. This is also pretty much the bedrock on which YA lit is built. And while there is some fumbling in this one (mainly as a stand-in for characterization) such that it isn't exactly Gossip Girl, still the experience levels are totally not believable and so I wanted to fight them instead of cheer for them, at every development. Since when is it so easy to do everything you want?
That said, the purportedly sexy parts are just off-putting instead of hot or comedic -- not sure which they're going for but it's neither. Also I don't object to the f word at all, but there are at least two per page here and jeez. I guess you gotta be in the mood.
But I'm rounding this up to 2 stars because, I don't know. I sort of got used to the damn thing by the end. Also, the only book I've ever 1-starred was one that deeply offended me, so I guess that's an imaginary threshold I set up. Annoyed is just not the same as offended. Try me though it might.
This book has become pretty famous. I knew lots and lots of things about it going in. I thought I knew what it would be (and I thought I would like it). The surprise: this book is terrible! How did I miss that? Didn't anyone leave any clues? No warning? Well, it's terrible.
The writing on both halves is so immensely lazy, I was kinda shocked. The narration for each point of view is very, very internal monologue -- the kind you can write as fast as you can read, where you don't have to try too hard because literally anything can be justified. If you're Rachel Cohn, for instance, it justifies lots of "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"s and other things that look entirely ridiculous on a page and don't help and just take up space. NO INDEED. Anyway, I don't find this fun to read. Any style at all is preferred to zero style. Why bother, if you're not saying anything? It reads like they didn't want to write a book but a movie pitch. Hey what do you know.
And, well, F to every single thing about Norah. This is Rachel Cohn's fault and also Norah's. I don't even really want to waste my time going into detail with this one. She just sucks and is sorta Mary Suey. A totally ridiculous Cinderella complex, while also being rich and famous in all the coolest places. Is for some reason looked after and enjoyed in these venues instead of put in her place by bitchy people who had to work to get there, as would happen in real life. We're to believe she's going to "run" a Lower East Side rock club when she's 19. With all the emphasis on her great taste and opinionations -- it's realistic teenage bravado, sure, but there is literally nothing thrown against any of this in the book, no spaghetti sliding down the wall at all, so I have to conclude that the shortsightedness isn't author commentary but author thumbs-up. And, no thanks. "Being perfect" is not the type of fantasy that I fancy in my fiction.
(Sidebar: Can we please get a new word for Mary Sue? Oh I hate that word. Also a new word for "manic pixie dream girl," but I can submit a separate ticket for that issue.)
David Levithan doesn't come off so hot either. However, Nick's chapters are way, way severely more together, more evocative, more reflecting of what's supposedly around them. The only parts that work at all are Levithan's. Including the one bit of good, solid YA reflection in the whole thing, right in the middle when they're separated and Nick is bummed. I genuinely appreciated about two pages of that chapter. Way to go, chapter!
Both authors are guilty of magical side characters made out of slightly offensive stereotypes. Like the tranny with the heart of gold who wants nothing more than to be involved in the budding relationship of two bougie teenagers and give them advice. And the brusque first-generation cab driver who turns out to be a caring family man, also willing to go out of his way to make this belligerent girl feel better, without question or asking where her parents are, like would happen in real life.
There is also some "teenagers as gods" syndrome in this book. They have no rules from parents to obey, they drink, they swear, they rock, they have sex, and all with aplomb. And see. The thing. To me it's not that these things aren't experienced by teenagers at all, or a lot -- but um. For the most part, they are really not any good at them. They will do them and be so bad at them. That's part of the deal. That's part of their pathos and irritation. This is also pretty much the bedrock on which YA lit is built. And while there is some fumbling in this one (mainly as a stand-in for characterization) such that it isn't exactly Gossip Girl, still the experience levels are totally not believable and so I wanted to fight them instead of cheer for them, at every development. Since when is it so easy to do everything you want?
That said, the purportedly sexy parts are just off-putting instead of hot or comedic -- not sure which they're going for but it's neither. Also I don't object to the f word at all, but there are at least two per page here and jeez. I guess you gotta be in the mood.
But I'm rounding this up to 2 stars because, I don't know. I sort of got used to the damn thing by the end. Also, the only book I've ever 1-starred was one that deeply offended me, so I guess that's an imaginary threshold I set up. Annoyed is just not the same as offended. Try me though it might.