I know. I know. You are looking at the early reviews of this book on this page, and most of them are overwhelmingly positive. And then here I come, the Naysayer, the Grump, the Whiny Whiner Who Whines. . .
And I get it. From an objective standpoint, I can see what people liked about The Optimistic Decade. For one thing, it was well written, maybe even exceptionally so, considering this is an author’s debut novel.
The camp landscape descriptions were absolutely on point. And I even think that the writer accomplished the ambitious goal that she likely had in her mind, when she set out to write this novel. That goal was (I suspect) to establish (through the tale of one very unique summer camp’s decade of history, a timeline that hopped, skipped and jumped, across three presidents, about 15 years -- from the mid 70’s to the early 90’s-- and four or five main characters) the notion that, regardless of our social standing and political views, all of us will inevitably go through a period in our lives when we are sublimely hopeful in our belief that we can “matter” to this world. Unfortunately, that belief will, at some point in our existence, ultimately be, at least somewhat, shattered, thus causing us to re-evaluate our identity and place in society at large.
Yet, all that being said . . . here’s the thing: I personally, just didn’t enjoy reading this book. I found it to be a chore. In fact, about 150 pages into reading The Optimistic Decade, I stopped the book completely, read an entire book that was actually longer than The Optimistic Decade, gave that book a five-star review on Goodreads, and reluctantly came back to finish this one.
One of the reasons this novel didn’t work for me, I think, was that I just wasn’t interested, or, to be honest, all that knowledgeable, about the time-period in which it took place, at least from the solely political viewpoint from which it was situated . . . My own “optimistic decade” having taken place a couple decades later.
Do I guiltily enjoy some 80’s music, and the occasional John Hughes movie? Sure. Am I at all conversant in the Exxon Valdez crisis or the ins and outs of the Persian Gulf War? Not in the least. And I’m not ashamed to admit that either.
Beyond the political backdrop of the story, I found that I was unable to relate to any of the novel’s main characters . . . three-dimensional and well-developed, though they might have been.
The female protagonist’s muckraking father? A selfish, egotistical, man-child, willing to put his own ego ahead of his family’s happiness and the livelihood of the many people he employs.
Donnie? An uneducated, Anti-Semitic asshole, who suffers from toxic masculinity and a crippling sense of entitlement.
Bored, lazy, naïve hippie, born ten-years too late, David; and uptight, virginal, intellectual snob, activist Rebecca fare slightly better in the story. Each of these characters, on their own, may even have had the opportunity to evolve into much more likeable characters, were it not for the odious Caleb and the If It Existed in Real Life, It Would Probably Be The Subject of A Massive Class Action Lawsuit And Numerous Arrests Camp Llamalo.
I think my biggest problem with The Optimistic Decade is that Caleb is initially treated as a “visionary,” and later, even when his flaws are exposed, as a “generally good guy.” After all, Caleb founded and runs, Llamalo, a camp that the author and its inhabitants all seem to think is “live-changing” and “awesome,” but to me seems like “a cult” and “has way too many similarities to a Charles Manson Family-type situation” to be an at all healthy experience for any human being.
Is Caleb revered by the campers and counselors at Llamalo as a godlike character? Yup! Is the camp situated in the middle of nowhere, and its inhabitants practically forbidden from contacting the outside world, or enjoying the comforts of modern technology, which would undoubtedly remind them of the truly effed up situation in which they are currently trapped? Uh-huh. Is minimum hygiene practiced, such that everyone on the campground showers maybe once a week, foregoes any kind of shaving, rarely changes clothing, and is regularly stinky and covered with dirt? You bet! Despite all this generalized nastiness among the camp population, does Lord Caleb regularly select/ almost force the “hottest” girl in the camp to come to his yurt at night and sleep with him? Ab-so-friggin-lutely.
I’m sorry. But I feel like a major requirement for enjoying The Optimistic Decade was that I root for Caleb, and praise Llamalo for getting Rebecca laid, and causing her to question her dedication to political causes, and I just couldn’t do it.
As for the novel’s ending, after all the build up regarding the challenge to Caleb’s right to the land on which the camp was run, and the Big Secret that Rebecca’s family was keeping from her all summer, it all (to me anyway) ramped up to a rather hastily added-on conclusion, which was then rushed into a tidy wrap-up, in an a-bit-too-pat epilogue type chapter.
In short, while I commend The Optimistic Decade for its impressive writing style, ambitious theme, and well-developed, if seriously flawed, main characters, none of these attributes ultimately resulted in an enjoyable read for me, personally.