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You Don't Love Me Yet

2.77 of 5 stars 2.77 · rating details · 3,094 ratings · 530 reviews

From the incomparable Jonathan Lethem, a raucous romantic farce that explores the paradoxes of love and art

Lucinda Hoekke spends eight hours a day at the Complaint Line, listening to anonymous callers air their random grievances. Most of the time, the work is excruciatingly tedious. But one frequent caller, who insists on speaking only to Lucinda, captivates her with his...more

Hardcover, 225 pages

Published March 13th 2007 by Doubleday (first published January 1st 2007)

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Jun 10, 2012 Ceridwen rated it 1 of 5 stars

Recommended to Ceridwen by: Not checking reviews first

Shelves: abandoned, america-and-environs, audio, reviewed

There's a point in this novel when one character says something to the effect of you can't say something that is both self-pitying and sarcastic. Then the other character high fives the interlocutor for being so insightful, which kind of made me vom. That's just a stupid thing to say, and sure, it's the kind of thing that self-involved knobs would say to each other - which is undoubtedly the point - but the way this aphoristic douchery is repeated, oh, I don't know, like a refrain? or a hook? in...more

44 likes · like · see review

Jul 29, 2010 Michelle rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: audio, novels

Audio book experiment II failed.

I am pretty sure this book would have blown even if I had read it on the page. I listened to it while driving back and forth to Santa Clara from my home office for a project I was working on. I was sick of my iPod so I thought I'd try audio books. (I have since learned from friend recommendations and personal experience that it is not the best idea to listen to fiction while driving.)

Anyway, as far as I could surmise, this book is about a young band trying to brea...more

20 likes · like · see review

Jul 16, 2007 Jason Pettus rated it 1 of 5 stars

(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com].)

Longtime followers of my creative projects know that in general I don't like publishing bad reviews; that for the most part I see it as a waste of both my time and yours, in that I could be spending that time instead pointing out great artists you may have never heard of. However, since one of the things this website is dedicated to is honest artistic criticism, I also feel it's important to acknowledge books th...more

10 likes · like · see review

Sep 09, 2007 Jill Golden rated it 1 of 5 stars Recommends it for: no one.

I loved Motherless Brooklyn and Lethem's book of essays, The Disappointment Artist. You Don't Love Me, Yet, however, has almost ruined my faith in contemporary fiction. Because I don't want to spend more time writing about this book than I have to, I will list some of the things about it that annoyed me:

1) The Characters' Names:
Bedwin
Falmouth Strand
Vogelsong
FANCHER AUTUMNBREAST (I actually had to stop reading for a few days after that one)

2) The contrived sex that made me never want to have sex...more

8 likes · like · see review

Nov 23, 2007 jeremy rated it 1 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction

no, i most certainly do not, and if you keep writing like this, i never will. reads like an overreaching first attempt at fiction. the only thing worse than whiny hipsters is an entire novel about them. the only thing worse than that, is a poorly written one.

8 likes · like · see review

Aug 05, 2008 Jenni Lunde rated it 2 of 5 stars

I saw this book and immediately knew I'd hate it as something from the pretentious "Rent" vein. But it was on my required reading list, and school begins soon, so I picked it up and read it all in a sitting, and am now ready to digest it.

If I read it all in one sitting, it couldn't have been that bad—right? Wrong. I just wanted to get it over with. The basic premise is this: a struggling band of slightly (but no more than that) misfit characters gets their big break via an inspirational (somewha...more I saw this book and immediately knew I'd hate it as something from the pretentious "Rent" vein. But it was on my required reading list, and school begins soon, so I picked it up and read it all in a sitting, and am now ready to digest it.

If I read it all in one sitting, it couldn't have been that bad—right? Wrong. I just wanted to get it over with. The basic premise is this: a struggling band of slightly (but no more than that) misfit characters gets their big break via an inspirational (somewhat) old man named Carl. No joke. Then, predictably, Carl wants a spot in the band and winds up breaking them up. The band's songs are pretty bad, even after they get their Carlspiration(TM). Think the "Joe lies/when he cries" song from "Say Anything" and you'll arrive close to what I mean by that. That the story's set in holier-than-thou Los Angeles and has a number of artist-types (I add the –types because I couldn't possibly call them artists) whose take on art is to make every situation, no matter how ordinary, into something it's not only adds to the sort of snooty atmosphere the author builds throughout. (Who talks the way these people do? Stoners? Apparently so.) Lucinda, the unworthy and decidedly uninteresting heroine of the story, meets her inspiring Carl whilst working as a receptionist taking complaints in one of these orchestrated situations.

The band's most "inspired" song is called "Monster Eyes." Yeah. I laughed too. A lot. Then I just thought it sad. The title refers to what happens when the one flaw you see in a person mushrooms so that it becomes *everything* you see in them. The Monster Eyes amplify the flaw until they devour everything you once saw that was good about someone. Obviously, the author has never heard that the absence of a flaw in beauty is itself a flaw. Or, perhaps, he's heard of it but doesn't believe it. Whatever. There was an ideological disconnect between the story and I there—one of many, as it turns out.

It's often hard to tell when the author's trying to be funny or trying to be serious. Some people have attributed this to his "witty irony" (from the front matter), but none of it seemed very witty or ironic to me, just kind of baseless and disorganized. It didn't help that I really couldn't make myself care a rat's ass about any of the main characters. Much as I kept thinking, "What makes you think you don't have to pay rent?" all throughout "Rent," I kept thinking, "What about you as people makes you so special?" throughout this novel. And so I got caught in a vortex-like loop from which thought and time cannot escape. The insights to be gained from this book are banal; like "Girl, Interrupted," the novel pretends at profundity but only plumbs new levels of, well, pretension. Shove your book up your arse, Mr. Lethem. That is, presumably, where it came from.

All right. . .I'll admit that last bit was a little harsh. But I'm still not taking it back.

"You can't be deep without a surface." Yeah? And you can't be deep if you don't sink beneath that surface, either, and find something worthwhile there. "He touched the lowest depths to attain the highest heights," as Dante wrote—my Latin's a bit shaky, so pray forgive the translation if it's wrong. There's no depth here. Pretending to be profound is not deep.

As to the writing style: when I began the book, it interested me immensely. Certain register shifts are common, from the lofty to the bathetic to the seedy and filthy: from Shakespeare to Danielle Steele, an you will. And, as I said, it interested me for a while. But then the shifts just became jarring and erratic: decidedly very off-putting. Mr. Lethem also is fond of a sort of nitty-gritty realism in his novel, which leads to rather pointless descriptions of what Lucinda happens to be wearing at the moment and even more pointless descriptions of oral sex. Now, the book gods know I'm no prude—I'm a staunch supporter of "In the Cut," after all—but the descriptions of here were to me a little bland, mindless, and out of place. There is no reason for them: no deep psychological need is filled by the sexual relationships, nor do they drive the plot forward in any necessary sense. (Am I the only woman left in America who thinks falling in love and having sex in all of five minutes is wrong?)

I'm chalking this book up to a culture shock experience, though not in the good way of trying new things, but in the bad way of understanding why I do not try new things more often. Is it interesting? Sure, if you like this sort of thing. Is it brilliant? Not really. It's a decent example of modern fiction, I suppose. Just because I don't care for it doesn't mean other people won't. *sigh*

"Rent" and all your ilk, stay far away from me. You are making me nauseous.
(less)

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Oct 29, 2008 Gabriel rated it 1 of 5 stars Recommends it for: no.

Man, I heard this was not great, but I didn't really expect it to suck THAT much. I figured I'd give him the benefit of the doubt since he's written some things I loved, especially the . Oh well. At least it was short.

Overwrought prose, boring and/or unlikeable characters, not to mention the ever-dangerous task of writing about music and not sounding like a total douche.

Upon reading some of the other reviews I felt I should add that I don't have any problem reading about hipsters or sympathizing...more

4 likes · like · see review

May 18, 2008 Jon rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: Flower Sniffin, Kitty Pettin', Baby Kissin' Corporate Rock Whores.

I actually dont see what Lethem could have done to make people happy with this book. All the reviews here pretty much slate it but I think it was written as a conscious detachment from Motherless Brooklyn/Fortress of Solitude and offers a nice relief. A bit more of a disposable pop riff than a layered, carefully constructed piece of art like his other two most famous books. Yes the characters are hateable, and yes the plot meanders a bit but if anyone out there has actually moved in band circles...more

2 likes · like · see review

Feb 09, 2013 kristin rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This was a Christmas present, so let me first congratulate myself for reading it so soon after receiving it. Believe me, this is rare.

The cover is kind of cool. I like books with attractive covers. 1988 excites me because I wish I were my current age during that year. Lucinda Hoekke happens to be my current age, in that year, is allegedly hot, and in a band.

I envied Lucinda until she started having sexathon benders with a fat, hairy, old man. Which began at approximately page 65. I had to take...more

1 like · like · see review

Nov 18, 2008 Trin rated it 1 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction, music, american-lit

Oh my god. I’m actually shocked that a book by a respected author like Lethem could be this bad. Because it is so bad. It’s full of whiny, painfully hipstery characters with names like Fancher Autumnbreast tooling around a fake L.A. that makes no geographical sense (even less than the real L.A., I mean) and having lots of deeply unpleasant-sounding sex that made me lock my legs at the knee as I read. Fine. That’s just bad. But what launches this book into the stratosphere of shockingly, appallin...more

6 likes · like · see review

Apr 16, 2008 Ryan rated it 1 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: people who like bad period pieces.

Recommended to Ryan by: myself

I would hate if my boss always compared my successes to my failures. Luckily my boss doesn't. If he did, I would quit. What he usually says when I make a mistake is 'Ryan, you screwed up, don't do it again'. Unfortunately most of Jonathan Lethem's readers don't give him that much respect. As an author of tremendous talent, he constantly gets compared to his greatest works. A comparison that is a waste to both the author and to any critical reader.

That said, at its best YOU DON'T LOVE ME YET is l...more

4 likes · like · see review

Feb 20, 2008 hanna rated it 1 of 5 stars

Wow, was this dreadful, irredeemably so. Where to begin? The overall feeling that the author had spent a grand total of a weekend in Los Angeles before writing this book, and threw in random details from looking at a GoogleMap? Honestly, even people that have lived in LA only briefly and hate it at least have more specific, well-founded, and intense reasons to justify their disgust. The derision that got blanketed in its own apathy is so textbook poke holes in LA because of someone symbolic need...more

3 likes · like · see review

Nov 05, 2009 Danielle rated it 1 of 5 stars

Recommended to Danielle by: Cindy

My initial impression is that Motherless Brooklyn may turn out to be the only Jonathan Lethem book I like...

1 like · like · see review

Jun 09, 2011 Sam Tepperman-gelfant rated it 1 of 5 stars

Big Heart, Little to Love

Reading "You Don't Love Me Yet" is like spending a few hours with college juniors who've just been exposed to postmodernism: there are some pretty turns of phrase and occasional insightful observations, but overall it's pretty annoying. Both Letham and his characters belong in this clique of moody hipsters, sharing a decided tendency to over-estimate their own cuteness. The characters confuse self deprecating irony, aimless attempts at artistic expression, and slogan-fil...more

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Jan 16, 2009 Jack rated it 2 of 5 stars Recommends it for: The "Hip" and "Clever"

A disappointing outing from the normally transcendent Jonathan Lethem, clever (oh is it clever!) but never actually engaging. It's about a bunch of twenty-something kids in a band that blow that one chance to make it big, probably because they're all too damn clever for their own goods.

It's not that this is a bad idea, or that Lethem doesn't demonstrate the necessary affection for his characters to make them lovable. It's that the whole book smacks of trying too hard. The characters are all "in...more

1 like · like · see review

Apr 06, 2008 Aimee rated it 1 of 5 stars

Shelves: wasteoftime

Although several fellow Goodreaders gave this "novel" low marks, I thought I'd give it a go, as the basic storyline sounded amusing. What a disappointment, especially after Motherless Brooklyn. The characters are annoying, self-absorbed, and one-dimensional. The story is equally uninspiring--Ennui in a half-hearted, Tragically Hip band. In the book, the band struggles to find a name, which aptly fits the aimlessness of the book and its protagonist. An appropriate name would have been "Void".

1 like · like · see review

May 07, 2013 Bjorn rated it 3 of 5 stars

Jonathan Lethem always wrote books in much the same way that Yo La Tengo make music; a reference here, an influence there, an irresistably charming fusion of twee pop, disco, free jazz and aggressive punk. Or in Lethem's case, some pop cultural journalism, some Austerian New York/Brooklyn, some satire, some Woody Allen sex and characters just overdone enough to be both funny and believable. All of it ever so slightly transparent so that you can see the layers underneath where he tries to work ou...more Jonathan Lethem always wrote books in much the same way that Yo La Tengo make music; a reference here, an influence there, an irresistably charming fusion of twee pop, disco, free jazz and aggressive punk. Or in Lethem's case, some pop cultural journalism, some Austerian New York/Brooklyn, some satire, some Woody Allen sex and characters just overdone enough to be both funny and believable. All of it ever so slightly transparent so that you can see the layers underneath where he tries to work out how society and culture work and go together... if they even do.

He did that perfectly in Fortress of Solitude and Motherless Brooklyn, two novels that simultaneously deconstructed and reconstructed the world while touching on music, art, movies and literature as reference points. Not to mention The Disappointment Artist, which starts out as a collection of essays and ends up as a frank autobiography describing growing up and his memories of his parents by kicking off from things like the films of John Cassavetes, Philip K Dick's non-SF novels, the subway station where they filmed The Warriors and others. In Lethem's books there's no high and low culture, just a world teeming with impressions.

A lot of that carries over to You Don't Love Me Yet, but this time he's taken the logical step and done what many male (and, sure, some female) authors do sooner or later: he's written an if-I-were-a-rockstar novel. You know, one of those novels where an author who's always loved music writes about what it might be like to be in a band, comes up with cool song titles with no pressure to actually turn them into songs, smart ways to handle record companies, etc. (It's a genre of mixed success; for a truly pointless recent example, check out Douglas Cowie's Owen Noone and the Marauder. Or rather, don't.)

Of course, Lethem wouldn't be Lethem if he didn’t a) make his "rockstars" a struggling indie band who have never played live, never recorded, and can't even come up with a band name that's obscure enough, and b) took it as an excuse to philosophise about some other thigs as well. You Don't Love Me Yet is a kindly satire of the American independent music scene, and our four heroes – Lucinda, Denise, Michael and Bedwin – your archetypical around-30 slightly disfunctional types you may see hovering around the Pavement section of your local "alternative" record store. At its best, it's something like a novelization of the delightful webcomic Questionable Content. But at the same time, he seems to want to say something about the debate within culture today, especially for collage artists like himself: the very concept of owning, of immaterial rights. Who can rightfully claim to own a piece of music, a person, a word, a heart... or why not a kangaroo. (Don't ask.) How we all run around trying to find that missing piece, complain to complete strangers (what's an alternative rock audience but the songwriter's personal therapists, paying for the privilege?), how we all tell ourselves that if we can just get that one thing right everything will fall into place...

"Seems", I wrote. Because unfortunately he doesn't quite manage. One scene at the beginning feels symtomatic; two of our anti-heroes go to a gallery and semi-ironically look at a large white cube titled "Chamber Containing The Volumetric Representation of the Number of Hours It Took Me to Arrive At This Idea" – the ultimate self-reference, the snake biting its own tail. They crawl inside the cube and have sex. And part of me almost thinks the book could have ended there, because far too often I find myself wondering if the correct summary of You Don't Love Me Yet should be something like "Book About What Happens Over The 224 Pages It Contains". Just like so many struggling bands, Lethem this time has all the riffs and effect pedals he can come up with but he can't quite find that hook, that chorus that makes a song more than just 3 minutes of drums and guitar. Not completely unlike the equally disappointing The Brooklyn Follies, the book ambles around amid confrontations, love scenes and film geek discussions without ever really moving. The snake bites its own tail, panta rei and at the end we've had a few laughs, a few questions and a few good song titles, but not much more. Lethem is a brilliant stylist and that gets him far, but those vertigo-inducing perspectives from both high and low that his last few books brought me never really appear. You Don't Love Me Yet is easy enough to like, but I never find myself loving it. (less)

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Nov 17, 2012 Shonna Froebel rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I listened to the audio version of this which was read by the author. Lucinda Hoekke has quit her job in a coffee shop to work in a performance art gallery answering a complaint line for an old boyfriend. Lucinda has also broken up, again, with her boyfriend Matthew. They remain good friends, and still play together in a band. Matthew is the singer and Lucinda plays bass. The real genius of the band is Bedwin who plays guitar and writes the songs.
Matthew works at the zoo, where is has a special...more

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Aug 04, 2012 Holly rated it 3 of 5 stars

Lucinda has a new job: As part of an ex-boyfriend's art project, she answers phone calls from LA residents responding to very plain fliers pasted all over the city stating "Complaints? Call". One man who calls frequently and complains mostly about himself becomes Lucinda's obsession, only rivaled by her fledgling band. As the Complainer becomes part of Lucinda's life, he merges into the band, made inevitable when she "steals" his complaints and makes them into a very popular song, propelling her...more

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Jan 30, 2012 Michael rated it 4 of 5 stars

A novel about Silver Lake, the neighborhood where I now live in Los Angeles. If you loved Chronic City, you will like this book.

Lethem's essentially trying to dignify hipsterism. It's a mighty challenge. Almost all of his characters are annoying. They're in a band. People try to connect despite their essentially comfortable states of alienation. Purpose floats in and out of their lives. One of them keeps a kangaroo in his bathtub. The band performs at an event called the Unparty.

The book is save...more

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Oct 04, 2011 James rated it 3 of 5 stars

This book is not realistic - have you read any Lethem books/stories that are? So forget about realism, or anyway, realism of events. The painful realism for me was in the relationships of the all the improbable people. The main character especially is painful to read because she is such a common type - the serial monogamist who doesn't know what she wants and doesn't realize others are being hurt by her physical movements through her emotional landscape. The awful relationship with the Complaine...more This book is not realistic - have you read any Lethem books/stories that are? So forget about realism, or anyway, realism of events. The painful realism for me was in the relationships of the all the improbable people. The main character especially is painful to read because she is such a common type - the serial monogamist who doesn't know what she wants and doesn't realize others are being hurt by her physical movements through her emotional landscape. The awful relationship with the Complainer, where she loses all sense of self, standards, dignity, and responsibility, was the most painful in my consideration. The hyperbole, the violence and melodrama of the emotions, the instant urge to merge, and worst of all: her inability to see...how pathetic, how loathsome, how entitled, how misogynistic, how egotistical and narcissistic her 'perfect' lover is, which eventually leads to losing friends and her chance at musical success. I could go on easily for pages about the disturbing realism of Lucinda's behavior (which includes the sex and masturbation - seriously people, a novel about human relationships really should have quite a bit of sex and masturbation in it, and this is about as real as I've ever read).

But the point is, if people are looking for a 'great rock novel,' that's not what this is about. If people are looking for characters to inspire, that's not what these characters can do. This book is, at it's core, about the narcissism of a young person looking for happiness in a world that shoves too many rags-to-riches and obsessive, irrational love stories down its children's throats. This book is about failure, about being myopic, about being a 'reprehensible human being,' about the fools that love makes of us all, all draped in Lethem's characteristic unreality. I enjoyed it quite a bit, but give it only three stars because...well, honestly, I think that at some point, someone ought to have mentioned something about the fact that the Complainer, too, was a thoroughly reprehensible person, and the lack of such judgment makes me feel peculiarly like maybe Lethem didn't think so poorly of him as I did. Perhaps Lethem doesn't have any experience with dating much older men who act like teenagers, but pretend to lofty sophistication.(less)

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Sep 06, 2011 dee rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: fiction

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

“Has it never been explained to you that self-pity undermines sarcasm? Pick one or the other, then stick with it.”

“Falmouth, when you and I were together, were you in love with me?”
He winced. “I suppose I was. It appeared so at that time, didn’t it? Do you want a cigarette?”
“Maybe you only seemed to be in love. Suppose, appear, seem, I hate those words.”
“Why are we discussing this now?”
“Nothing, it’s just someday I want to be in love without supposing or appearing or seeming.”
“You want to be in...more

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Feb 28, 2011 Christian Kitchen rated it 2 of 5 stars

Yeah, so I've decided that there's a genre that encompasses fiction occurring primarily in the city of Los Angeles. I'm not sure that I like it, I'm not even sure that the hollowness with which it rings is the hollow tone of LA or the sound of not very well realized fiction.

I've been to LA a couple of times and each time I left, I left with the same sense that this book left me with. Like I'd awakened from some not very interesting dream in which I hung out with a whole bunch of unarticulated p...more

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Feb 14, 2011 Sarah Norman rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This book was pretty much pants.

"Smart, funny and hip . . . I love this book" said the Independent. A publication that clearly needs to smoke a good deal less crack. There were lots of other similar reviews. Many emphasized the books 'coolness,' and my theory is that many of the reviewers were sort of older - like maybe in their fifties. As this is a book clearly written for/about people in their twenties and thirties, the reviewers must just have thought that while the book was blantantly crap,...more

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Aug 03, 2009 Michaela rated it 2 of 5 stars

I just don't know what to say about this -- was it a modern morality tale? Possibly. Was it successful? Not really. Do I even remember much about this book a few weeks after reading it? No.

Granted, Lethem played fast and loose with the fantastical pre-Motherless Brooklyn. This book seems like it should have come from that period in Lethem's career. Compared to his early work, it hits a lot of the same sweet spots: creativity, sex, etc. Except it rang a little hollow. Then again, was it supposed...more

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May 07, 2009 Naomi rated it 2 of 5 stars

Bits of this book were very clever. I liked the song names and little clever bits of dialogue, and the premise of Falmouth's art project, but the story itself was not that interesting. The protagonist didn't change at all over the course of the book, and sometimes made some choices which didn't seem consistent with anything other than male fantasy. Sex and alcohol made up about 70% of her activities, which gets old after a while. Also, the bit with the radio show seemed to kind of veer away from...more

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Sep 14, 2009 Noah Soudrette rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: jonathan-lethem

This is the third of Jonathan Lethem's books that I've read, and while I liked one and loved the other, this was in the end a disappointment. While at first the characters seem to able to carry the meandering plot, they are eventually revealed to be paper thin stand-ins for... something. That's the biggest problem here. I have no idea what Lethem is trying to say. Is he commenting about love? relationships? music? ownership? depth? shallowness? The answer is yes, he's commenting on all of those....more

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Apr 23, 2012 Caris rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: 2012, kindle

And you know what, title? I don’t think I’m going to.

I’ve gone back and forth with myself the past few days trying to determine whether this book was really good or really bad. My initial thoughts (and the ones that were reinforced by reading) pushed me toward the latter. But I was on the fence. So I had a look at what other people said about it.

Almost unanimously, this book is hated by the fine people of Goodreads. 2.72 average stars. For a mainstream author with a kajillion reviews, that’s so...more

16 likes · like · see review

Jun 05, 2012 Lauren rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: reviewed

I thought this would be my kind of novel. From the description it seems like it would be my kind of novel. Everything about it screams my kind of novel. And maybe it is my kind of novel, in theory, but certainly not in execution. The oh-so-tragic characters and their oh-so-tragic lives are stuffed with moody hipster clichés and too-clever-for-their-own-good quips that read more like an aging wannabe trying to prove how "with it" they are than someone who is actually cool. It's like someone rippi...more

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Aug 07, 2010 Sara Habein rated it 1 of 5 stars

I really enjoy Jonathan Lethem’s work, and I believe that this novel is meant to be satire on love and fledgling rock bands. He has a way with describing things that paint a clear picture, and I do appreciate that he takes an unflinching approach to relationships of all kinds. Still, this didn’t make me like the characters any more. While I certainly know people like those in this book, providing some amusement, those people tend to annoy me. The clothes, the self-inflicted haircuts, grand conve...more

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“I want what we all want," said Carl. "To move certain parts of the interior of myself into the exterior world, to see if they can be embraced.” — 51 people liked it

“You can't be deep without a surface” — 19 people liked it

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