This book, touted as a radical feminist revenge thriller meets American Psycho, unfortunately doesn’t quite live up to the hype. While the ambition is evident, the execution feels heavy-handed, sacrificing subtlety for a message that’s delivered with the subtlety of a shout. It’s a psychological thriller that, ironically, lacks psychological depth.
While the premise held immense promise, the final product reads as disappointingly average. It leans heavily into clichés and predictable tropes, particularly in its portrayal of gender dynamics. The “men are trash” sentiment, while resonating with some, is presented in such an on-the-nose manner that it undermines any nuanced exploration of the issue.
As someone who appreciates strong, independent female characters – even those with morally gray tendencies – I was eager to delve into this story. However, the writing style lacked the finesse and elegance that could have elevated this narrative. The suspense and trepidation one expects from a psychological thriller were notably absent. The ominous atmosphere, crucial for this genre, simply never materialized. Instead of building tension, the book opts for bluntness, effectively deflating any potential for genuine suspense.
One of the book’s significant weaknesses is its portrayal of male characters. With the exception of a gay couple – a trope in itself, suggesting that homosexuality somehow immunizes against misogyny – there isn’t a single male character depicted in a positive or even complex light. This binary view of gender relationships extends to romantic pairings, suggesting that healthy relationships are only possible within same-sex pairings. While the book clearly aims to address gender issues, resorting to simplistic stereotypes and overused social media soundbites feels like a disservice to the complexity of the topic. They Never Learn, this book seems to imply about men, trapped in cycles of toxic behavior.
It’s not necessarily a flaw to lack sympathetic male characters, especially given the book’s apparent agenda. The intention seems to be to expose a spectrum of predatory male behaviors – from seeking validation through exploitation to blatant entitlement and aggression. The book attempts to argue that every man is capable of being a predator due to societal conditioning. However, this absolutist stance ultimately weakens the narrative. By painting with such broad strokes, the book sacrifices depth and believability for the sake of its message.
The protagonist, Scarlett, is another area where the book falters. Despite initial hints of complexity, her character ultimately lacks true depth. The exploration of her “dark urges” feels superficial. The narrative presents a somewhat inconsistent portrayal of Scarlett, unsure whether she is a woman who “snapped” and discovered a taste for violent justice, or if she was inherently a serial killer using vigilante justice as a convenient justification. These moments where Scarlett seems to crave murder for its own sake feel disconnected from the book’s central themes about men and gender, suggesting a confusion in the author’s character conception. Is her violence a feminist statement, or something more primal and less thematically coherent?
The ending, predictable as it was, aligned with the overall tone of the book. In cinematic terms, this feels less like an independent arthouse film and more like a formulaic Netflix adaptation, capitalizing on current social trends with superficial commentary. The book’s title itself feels like a tagline designed for streaming platform algorithms. The core issue isn’t necessarily the clichés themselves, but the lack of tension and suspense that could have made these clichés more palatable. If the pages had been filled with genuine suspense and unexpected turns, the predictability might have been forgiven.
The redeeming qualities:
Despite its shortcomings, the book does have a few saving graces. It managed to incorporate a few plot twists that genuinely surprised me. Furthermore, the feminist commentary, however unsubtle, is undeniably timely and raises some valid points about gender dynamics and societal expectations. Finally, the writing itself is competent, if unremarkable. It’s functional and clear, but lacks any distinctive style or flair.
In conclusion, while this book attempts to tackle important themes within a thriller framework, it ultimately falls short due to its lack of subtlety, reliance on clichés, and underdeveloped characters. The message, while potentially relevant, is delivered in a way that prioritizes bluntness over nuance, ultimately hindering its impact. They never learn, the book seems to declare, but perhaps neither does the narrative itself learn from the nuances of effective thriller writing.
