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A review by abbywdan
Admission by Jean Hanff Korelitz
2.0
I was just writing a Facebook status about what a shit mood I'm in, and how I don't want to go do the things I've committed to doing this evening because I haven't left the house all day despite this glorious weather (I did sit on the roof! I took in the weather, don't worry!), and I realized it was just becoming my Goodreads review of Admission, which is the reason I didn't leave the house all day. Here's the Facebook status:
Apparently, I need to be reminded quarterly that I should not spend ALL day reading. It makes me grumpy, lazy, and antisocial. I guess I also need to be reminded that I don't HAVE TO finish EVERY BOOK I start. And now I'm realizing that this is just leading to my Goodreads review of the New England Masturbation Festival known as "Admission," so I'll stop now by saying that I am also VERY HUNGRY, which compounded with the above makes me HANGRY.
I have not moved since I wrote that, so suffice to say I am still HANGRY, and while part of that is the loneliness/depression attendent to reading at home alone all day on the most beautiful of days, the only reason I bothered to do that was because I just kept wanting this book to be better. But it isn't. It's among the more self-indulgent pieces of claptrap I've read of late.
And yes, I know I describe a lot of books as self-indulgent AND/OR claptrap, but bear with me: have you ever felt that a novel really lacked adequate description of things like What Robotic Caller ID Voices Sound Like, or Things On The Train Station Schedule In France, or What Particular Streets in Princeton Look Like, or What Restaurants Can't Be Found Near Dartmouth's Campus Anymore, or Highways of New England, or Why To Shop At Ann Taylor For Work Clothes, or How Heartbreaking It Is That Good, Smart Kids Can't ALL Be Admitted To The Colleges of Their Choice? Me neither. But I'll be damned if Korelitz didn't fill up half novel with them. It's boring, and it's self-indulgent, and above all else it makes the novel unnecessarily long. I spent all day today reading the second half!
Is the story good? Yes. The story is actually great. It's a little obvious, the psychology is pretty bare, but it's a good story. "Stick to your story," goes the Alan Campbell-as-Joe Gillis in my head, in the call-and-response of Broadway lyrics I can never escape, and that's what Korelitz doesn't do. She fluffs about Princeton and New England, and I'm sure reading that is a trip for the graduates of Princeton and Darmouth and even some of the prep schools she name-drops (I got excited for the multiple references to Milton, where my good pal went), but in the end, she does it so much that it isn't worth waiting for the story to get where it's going. I can't say I recommend Admission, but I can say I'm thinking about it.
Apparently, I need to be reminded quarterly that I should not spend ALL day reading. It makes me grumpy, lazy, and antisocial. I guess I also need to be reminded that I don't HAVE TO finish EVERY BOOK I start. And now I'm realizing that this is just leading to my Goodreads review of the New England Masturbation Festival known as "Admission," so I'll stop now by saying that I am also VERY HUNGRY, which compounded with the above makes me HANGRY.
I have not moved since I wrote that, so suffice to say I am still HANGRY, and while part of that is the loneliness/depression attendent to reading at home alone all day on the most beautiful of days, the only reason I bothered to do that was because I just kept wanting this book to be better. But it isn't. It's among the more self-indulgent pieces of claptrap I've read of late.
And yes, I know I describe a lot of books as self-indulgent AND/OR claptrap, but bear with me: have you ever felt that a novel really lacked adequate description of things like What Robotic Caller ID Voices Sound Like, or Things On The Train Station Schedule In France, or What Particular Streets in Princeton Look Like, or What Restaurants Can't Be Found Near Dartmouth's Campus Anymore, or Highways of New England, or Why To Shop At Ann Taylor For Work Clothes, or How Heartbreaking It Is That Good, Smart Kids Can't ALL Be Admitted To The Colleges of Their Choice? Me neither. But I'll be damned if Korelitz didn't fill up half novel with them. It's boring, and it's self-indulgent, and above all else it makes the novel unnecessarily long. I spent all day today reading the second half!
Is the story good? Yes. The story is actually great. It's a little obvious, the psychology is pretty bare, but it's a good story. "Stick to your story," goes the Alan Campbell-as-Joe Gillis in my head, in the call-and-response of Broadway lyrics I can never escape, and that's what Korelitz doesn't do. She fluffs about Princeton and New England, and I'm sure reading that is a trip for the graduates of Princeton and Darmouth and even some of the prep schools she name-drops (I got excited for the multiple references to Milton, where my good pal went), but in the end, she does it so much that it isn't worth waiting for the story to get where it's going. I can't say I recommend Admission, but I can say I'm thinking about it.