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A review by otterno11
The New Me by Halle Butler
4.0
The New Me was a very affecting novel l that I find myself thinking about even as the months have passed since I finished it. Bleakly humorous (or humorously bleak?), there is something that fascinates me about Halle Butler’s writing here, something that really captures the alternating ludicrous and horrific mood of the current period of history in the United States. Perhaps part of this is an effect of listening to The New Me as an audiobook, narrated by Butler herself in a way that felt very evocative of the character and her world, but in any case, it really resonated with me. The novel brought back vivid feelings for me from an equally depressing time of my life right around that very same age, hitting me in a really visceral way.
The bulk of The New Me is narrated by 30-year-old Millie, as she starts a temp job in the office of an architectural magazine publisher in Chicago and quickly begins to spiral into a helplessly witty void of self-sabotage and doubt. Butler interrupts her reflections with some hilarious third person perspectives of various people around her, that all feel equally sympathetic, equally lost.
As illustrated by these asides, we find Millie’s choices have little import, as forces equally arbitrary work against her from outside her awareness, from the neighbor who calls in the weird smell of neglect coming from her apartment (only for the landlord to wave it off as “just the pipes”) to Millie’s younger, ambitious boss, who is just as obnoxious to their superiors.
Dread practically oozes from the narrative as Millie struggles through one awkward situation after another. I’m kind of a fan of cosmic horror and in spite of so mundane and relatable and just everydayness of the story, the hopelessness and despair comes through showing you don’t need aliens or ghosts or even serial killers to have something truly chilling. Millie even nods to this herself, her favorite show being a true crime doc she watches on her laptop. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something truly horrifying to happen but the end was, in itself, all too familiar (and horrific in its own way). On the other hand, it was reassuring to see this contemporary fear depicted in so sympathetic a way.
The bulk of The New Me is narrated by 30-year-old Millie, as she starts a temp job in the office of an architectural magazine publisher in Chicago and quickly begins to spiral into a helplessly witty void of self-sabotage and doubt. Butler interrupts her reflections with some hilarious third person perspectives of various people around her, that all feel equally sympathetic, equally lost.
As illustrated by these asides, we find Millie’s choices have little import, as forces equally arbitrary work against her from outside her awareness, from the neighbor who calls in the weird smell of neglect coming from her apartment (only for the landlord to wave it off as “just the pipes”) to Millie’s younger, ambitious boss, who is just as obnoxious to their superiors.
Dread practically oozes from the narrative as Millie struggles through one awkward situation after another. I’m kind of a fan of cosmic horror and in spite of so mundane and relatable and just everydayness of the story, the hopelessness and despair comes through showing you don’t need aliens or ghosts or even serial killers to have something truly chilling. Millie even nods to this herself, her favorite show being a true crime doc she watches on her laptop. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something truly horrifying to happen but the end was, in itself, all too familiar (and horrific in its own way). On the other hand, it was reassuring to see this contemporary fear depicted in so sympathetic a way.