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A review by opheliapo
The Hating Game by Sally Thorne
1.0
I was going to give this book two stars for narrative structure and writing style, but after finishing it I’ve decided not to be so generous.
Considering just how many (insane) people I know to have rated this five stars I, at first, assumed that it was my inability to enjoy fluffy romance that was the problem. But no. I didn’t sob at Me Before You and let myself get caught up in the surreal politics of Red White & Royal Blue just to gaslight myself into thinking this awful book was a matter of mismatched taste.
Significant parts of The Hating Game felt like they were so close to the mark, if only they hadn’t, at the last second, been submerged in a vat of boiling hot heteronormativity. I have no beef with the office romance trope, the crazy height difference trope, or the quirky girl, straight laced boy trope, the execution was just bananas.
Speaking of Me Before You, Lucy is essentially a budget bin Louisa Clark, with any genuine sense of her supposed kindness obliterated by the string of fat-phobia and judgement that is aimed at every woman she encounters. Besides her elegant boss, Lucy describes every woman she works with in the most unforgiving terms, pointing out their waddles and fat pouches with merciless distain. If they aren’t fat, they are at least tacky, and Lucy will make sure you know that the assistant at the hotel she stays in is wearing an ugly shade of lipstick and is probably a bimbo. I also hate when petite women refuse to acknowledge that they are the beauty standard. Lucy is allowed to be insecure about her size, but the way she describes it you would think she was actively being discriminated against. For someone who is supposedly annoyed by how cute
Considering just how many (insane) people I know to have rated this five stars I, at first, assumed that it was my inability to enjoy fluffy romance that was the problem. But no. I didn’t sob at Me Before You and let myself get caught up in the surreal politics of Red White & Royal Blue just to gaslight myself into thinking this awful book was a matter of mismatched taste.
Significant parts of The Hating Game felt like they were so close to the mark, if only they hadn’t, at the last second, been submerged in a vat of boiling hot heteronormativity. I have no beef with the office romance trope, the crazy height difference trope, or the quirky girl, straight laced boy trope, the execution was just bananas.
Speaking of Me Before You, Lucy is essentially a budget bin Louisa Clark, with any genuine sense of her supposed kindness obliterated by the string of fat-phobia and judgement that is aimed at every woman she encounters. Besides her elegant boss, Lucy describes every woman she works with in the most unforgiving terms, pointing out their waddles and fat pouches with merciless distain. If they aren’t fat, they are at least tacky, and Lucy will make sure you know that the assistant at the hotel she stays in is wearing an ugly shade of lipstick and is probably a bimbo. I also hate when petite women refuse to acknowledge that they are the beauty standard. Lucy is allowed to be insecure about her size, but the way she describes it you would think she was actively being discriminated against. For someone who is supposedly annoyed by how cute