**a few small spoilers ahead** I most enjoyed the scenes describing the main character, Taylia’s, relationship with her dadi-ma, the humorous and searing descriptions of Taylia’s parents’ relationship, and the backstory of her maternal grandparents. I felt those parts gave the characters dimension and relatability. But my problem with this book is that there’s no there there.
What I did not like was how the tone of the writing was all over the place. I think the first few pages were the best, where the writing felt concise, pithy and frank, a bit stylistically similar to Elena Ferrante’s voice, and darkly funny and jaded, a bit like Otessa Moshfegh. But that voice soon left and was replaced by abrupt, tedious dialogue.
I was turned off by the ineffective crudeness of the language (lots of mention of “pussies” and how men don’t take women seriously because of them); the one-dimensional cliched characters (mom is a cringey, upper middle class, highly educated, liberal white woman who tokenizes her Brown friends, dad is a brooding, misogynistic Indian man who wants to blend in with American whiteness, sister is a devastatingly beautiful charmer who everyone idolizes to Taylia’s detriment); and the general tediousness of the writing. I also found off-putting the unconvincing changes in tone—sometimes pensive, sometime crudely humorous, sometimes very reminiscent of the way people communicate on social media (e.g. often self pitying and self-serious without a trace of irony). Taylia gave us backstories for her parents, but then had zero grace for them (before they kicked her out), which I felt was an unappealing aspect of her character. The author also belabored points (she emphasizes that her older sister is “so fucking beautiful”) in a way that wasn’t really effective and came off as awkward. I thought the entire second half could have benefited from a good editor.
As an example of dialogue and character portrayals I found especially unrealistic, there’s an exchange between Taylia’s mom and the family friend/bad guy, Simon. I can’t imagine any teenager I know jeer at the mother of his friend’s parents, in reference to her daughter who’s standing right in front of them: “This one doesn’t talk too much, does she?” In this way, the characters felt like comic book villains who use women violently for sex and turn them against their family, and families—highly educated, cosmopolitan and politically liberal from the Upper West Side NYC in 2020—who kick their daughter out of the house because the family friend accused her of being sexually untoward, and a comic book hero, who never did anything to deserve her mistreatment and everyone who should love her just hates her (except for her sister). This and other plot points were so ridiculously melodramatic I couldn’t really take it seriously. So the book felt one dimensional while simultaneously trying to do way too much—from rumennations on the Holocaust to 9/11 to body shaming to astrology to the follies of Liberal Educated Upper Class White People, to post colonial identities to immigrant struggles to suicide to sibling rivalry to toxic parenting to the restorative power of friendships to finding one’s purpose. It broaches these topics but doesn’t explore most of them to a satisfying or interesting degree.
I am sorry for the mostly negative review, but this book left me feeling unsettled and disappointed. I really wanted to like it, but it fell flat for me because of the quality of the writing and the lack of creativity in the storyline. I just really wonder what was going on with this book’s editor. The basic plot has so much potential and the story is attempted to be told in a heartfelt way, but I felt the story tried to do too much without ever going anywhere, emotionally speaking. It had a lot of tedium and big flashy drama without moving my heart.