A gay romance written by someone clearly burned by the gay scene one too many times. I have so many problems with this book I don’t even know where to start.
The main character, Max Moody, a name as creative as you imagine, is utterly insufferable. Let it be known that Max is not like other gays. While others are socialising in bars, he is eating the most revoltingly greasy omelette you’ve ever seen. While some may enjoy queer icon Madonna, Max enjoys the musical stylings of the Smiths. You already know he has the audacity to claim he has a good music taste as well of course.
“I’m reminded of how being gay is not really my forte. Oh, I like guys that way, but I’m not really the kind of gay you’re expecting. Anyone who knows me will agree that I’m not a professional gay and should have my gay card taken away by the gay police. I love morose eighties college rock and hate Britney Spears. I use my Brooklyn Botanic Garden membership more than my gym membership. I’ve seen half an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race. And I’m really not a fan of going to Pride parades. Not because I’m not, you know, proud or whatever, but because I’m deathly uncomfortable in noisy, large crowds.
Sometimes I think I’m still single because other gays don’t know what kind of gay I am. I don’t think I fit in anywhere since I’m not a jock, muscle guy, daddy, twink, bear, cub, otter, hyena, cobra, walrus or any other ridiculous label gays put on each other. (I made up those last three.) I’m a Max Moody. That should be enough for someone, right?”
Have you maybe considered that you’re still single because you are an absolute killjoy?
To only mention the self-righteous and yet somehow self-deprecatory internalised homophobia would be a discredit to just how lame this character was. Just a complete melt.
A not-insignificant portion of this book was set at his job as HR personnel, tasked with laying off a large proportion of the workforce. This was a pretty pointless addition to the storyline as there never was really a satisfying payoff and the emotional ‘dilemma’ fell flat since I didn’t actually care. I guess it forced his hand in getting a long overdue hobby by dumping orphaned ex-employee potted plants on him, but all it really did was serve to exemplify how much his backbone resembled the flimsy, disintegrating paper straws he apparently has such a problem with several times during this novel.
That only begins to describe how little I respected this man. Invertebrate-kin Max is down so horrendous and seemed to think he was still in a relationship with his LITERAL ex Greg, by all metrics a Neanderthal and yet somehow more understandable as a character. The levels of delusion were absolutely unreal - his final breaking off of their “relationship” was meant to be a big character development moment for Max, where he was finally ready to move on. Mind you they were just friends (?) who “do the sex” at this point, and Greg did not care about him at all (and can we blame him?).
His best friend Paige, the bride-to-be, is one of the most annoying characters I have ever read. From the time he came out to her in school, she has called him her GBF (or gay best friend for us uninitiated). She was actively EXCITED about the prospect in fact, despite getting pied about being his date to Winter Formal. What follows is a melange of pure homophobic stereotyping and active harm that was genuinely quite shocking. At one point she quite literally outs him, and SHE is mad at HIM about it because he forced her to “keep a secret for so long”? Be unbelievably serious. When Max finally calls her out on always referring to him as her GBF when by all intents and purposes he is just her best friend (which to be quite honest is just as unserious since the whole rest of the novel he was fighting for the title and disparaging every gay under the sun), she gets so angry at him she pushes him into a pool. And then MAX is the one who has to apologise? Where is the character growth?
“I realized forever ago you were never going to tell me how fierce I look or throw shade while we have a kiki or wear silly wigs with me or gossip about Bravolebrities or call each other ‘gurl’ while spilling tea, screaming show tunes at a drag queen lip sync—” - taken from the final chapter, by the way.
Then we have the romance with Chasten. Dear lord, the lack of chemistry puts the noble gases to shame. They had a cheap and disastrously bad hookup after meeting at a gay bar, and then by movie magic he is the brother of Paige’s fiancé and will be in the wedding party. Cue the stupid rivalry and cat fighting over being Paige’s #1 gay. This forms the major conflict of the novel, both for the Paige-Max “friendship growth” arc, AND for Chasten-Max enemies-to-lovers-esque hellscape of a romance. Max has to learn to love despite hating the fact Chasten is TOO popular, TOO well-coiffed, TOO well-connected, TOO much the classic caricature of a gay man. Max simply can’t compete. But of course, Chasten wins Max over by bonding over opening lines to songs like Like a Virgin by Madonna and Truth Hurts by Lizzo. Maybe Chasten isn’t so bad after all, he knows songs.
“What’s your favorite opening line in a song?” I challenged him. To my surprise, he answered right away.
“That’s easy,” he said. “Madonna.” I roll my eyes a little too hard at that one. Madonna? Really? Everything was going so well but this answer was so … basic. Anything romantic I was trying to suppress disappeared completely like the boardwalk deer at night.”
They had almost nothing in common, every intimate scene felt so shallow, uninspired and rigid, it was actually quite the gag Chasten was interested at all.
Even if you managed to get past the terrible character crafting, the writing was genuinely offensively bad. The dialogue and Max’s internal monologue was beyond cringe:
““Oh, the shops are straight that way, right?” Paige asks one of the Speedos.
“You mean gayly forward, yes,” one of them says.”
There were moments that were so disparaging to the queer community my optic nerves almost snapped from the eye rolls they triggered:
“I don’t mind drag shows, but sometimes they feel like mandatory gay fun. Like, can’t we all just go bowling, grab a burger and call it a night? Don’t get me wrong—I’ll go out for a gay drink once in a while at Gym Bar or an Eagle beer bust, hence my meet and greet with Chasten at Barracuda, but even those places feel forced. I’d much prefer to hit up a graffiti-stained underground hole-in-the-wall, listening to some freaky band on the Lower Lower Lower East Side. I’m guessing Paige is buddying up to Chasten right now because he’s a new type of gay flavor that Paige can’t seem to enjoy from me.”
Then there was the comphet insinuation that straight people can’t possibly change their mind about marriage, because of the struggles the queer community have faced:
”FUCKING STRAIGHT PEOPLE. I REALIZE I’VE BEEN ON FIRE ISLAND for three and a half minutes, so I normally wouldn’t pit straights versus gays, but goddamn. I’m too painfully aware of the history of same-sex marriage not being legal, so the idea of canceling a wedding shouldn’t be as easy as buying and sending back the wine. It’s a privilege to question whether or not she wants to get married. Paige gets an engagement party, a bachelorette party, a shower, a wedding. She’s lucky. I spent the better chunk of my twenties wanting only one of those things.
Jesus. I just made her moment all about me.”
Absolutely audacious considering how anti-gay Max seemed to be. Oh wait, he’s just anti-other-gays apparently.
What really pisses me off is if you wanted to critique dating in the gay scene, or in the modern landscape, or tackle stereotyping from straight friends, that could be such an interesting nuance to add to romance when done correctly. Not only was it done badly, it was done in such a way that it infuriated me in its depictions of gay spaces. And I am definitely not taking ANY opinions from someone who deifies Morrissey, and I’m not sorry.
This was a manifesto for the most annoying gay man you have ever met, dedicated to stroking the ego that’s telling them that they’re not the problem. The only reason I finished this is I garner an almost unhealthy amount of enjoyment in writing bad reviews, otherwise this would have been a hard DNF for me. Don’t bother.