In general, literary fiction is defined as something that emphasizes meaning over entertainment. Although I’m all for being entertained sometimes, I really like impactful depth. Perhaps my entertainment is more easily found in something meatier that I can chew on. In that respect, Like Happiness, a newly released literary fiction debut, sounded like it would be right up my alley.
But, and I suppose this is my subjective stance, I feel the meaning should come from what is illustrated. I don’t want the author to tell me what they think and I don’t want them to tell me how to think. I want the text to make me think.
I do not feel I found that here. Instead, I found an author who felt the need to explain everything to me.
I also found the writing in this to be quite simple, and often had a stilted tone. I found the fact that the narrator was addressing Mateo the whole time to be irritating, not because I think it’s a poor literary device, but because the execution felt forced and clunky. The narrator seemed juvenile and it felt more like I was reading a heavily detailed journal than a novel. You might argue that she was processing her feelings about her relationship with Mateo, which would make the journal aspect feeling practical, but I still feel the execution was awful.
Additionally, I felt that rather than developing a character well, the author name dropped regularly to create the illusion of a nuanced character who appreciated art, literature, and alternative rock. Tatum was not interesting. Her personality mainly relied upon the interesting accomplishments of others.
I found Like Happiness to be an annoyance and a disappointment, despite the important themes it addressed. I’ve no doubt many will appreciate those themes, but I didn’t think it had the substance of a good story.
I am immensely grateful to Celadon Books, BookishFirst, and NetGalley for my copies. All opinions are my own.
But, and I suppose this is my subjective stance, I feel the meaning should come from what is illustrated. I don’t want the author to tell me what they think and I don’t want them to tell me how to think. I want the text to make me think.
I do not feel I found that here. Instead, I found an author who felt the need to explain everything to me.
I also found the writing in this to be quite simple, and often had a stilted tone. I found the fact that the narrator was addressing Mateo the whole time to be irritating, not because I think it’s a poor literary device, but because the execution felt forced and clunky. The narrator seemed juvenile and it felt more like I was reading a heavily detailed journal than a novel. You might argue that she was processing her feelings about her relationship with Mateo, which would make the journal aspect feeling practical, but I still feel the execution was awful.
Additionally, I felt that rather than developing a character well, the author name dropped regularly to create the illusion of a nuanced character who appreciated art, literature, and alternative rock. Tatum was not interesting. Her personality mainly relied upon the interesting accomplishments of others.
I found Like Happiness to be an annoyance and a disappointment, despite the important themes it addressed. I’ve no doubt many will appreciate those themes, but I didn’t think it had the substance of a good story.
I am immensely grateful to Celadon Books, BookishFirst, and NetGalley for my copies. All opinions are my own.