Being a huge fan of a writer’s body of work in general, and one particular work in particular, can be a poisoned chalice when it comes to assessing their new work. If this was the first of Sarra Manning’s books I’d ever read, I would have just dismissed it as an under-edited middle-of-the-road work, then been slow to pick up another. But when I have read her past work – and in particular, ‘You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me’ – this palls so much in comparison it almost disappears.
It doesn’t help that ‘Rescue Me’ and YDHTSYLM have so much in common. A fat heroine – but in YDHTSYLM, her size is actually addressed, with sensitivity and empathy. A psychologically-damaged hero – but in YDHTSYLM we actually see him work through his issues, rather than getting one scene with a therapist that (despite all the book’s efforts to contradict it) ‘fixes’ him. There’s even orphans, familial rifts, and bolshy dogs in YDHTSYLM, too. The main differences that sets them apart is emotional honesty (overwhelming in YDHTSYLM, non-existent here) and editing. YDHTSYLM is edited to the max, polished like sea-glass, while 'Rescue Me' has long rambling run-on sentences left in from the first draft, authorial ‘notes to self’, and a structure that needed a serious revisit.
I was not a fan of the dog. I’m fully aware of the origins of this particular character, which makes me even more of a dick when I say Blossom was boring at best, shamefully under-utilised as a plot point at worst. I am a cat person, so the treatment of the cat in the opening of the book wasn’t inclined to endear me to this story. For someone who understands that (the admittedly VERY UGLY) breed of Staffordshire Bull Terriers have been discriminated against on the basis of incorrect PR, Manning is very quick to brand all cats with the same ‘nasty, disloyal, will eat you when you die’ brush. #notallcats, Sarra!
The fact that Staffies are – to my eyes, and many other people’s – exceptionally ugly, second only to greyhounds IMO, is a fact about them that Manning chooses, bafflingly, to gloss over. Margot visits a kennel with the intention of getting a small fluffy dog and ends up with one that has a face like a brick, who smells bad, and farts worse. She falls in insta-love with this specimen – there’s no explanation of this volte-face – and Will does the same, with the very unlikely outcome that they decide to share ownership of her (or, revoltingly, ‘co-pawrent’).
Leaving aside the fact that there must be plenty of other ugly-cute dogs in need of a home in that kennel, Manning gives no reason why these two people of any others have no inherent bias towards ugly dogs with well-known bad (albeit unwarranted) reputations. Equally, everyone else who meets Blossom loves her, even though she looks and smells terrible (according to the narrative). There’s a huge vein to mine here in terms of Will and Margot overcoming their own biases, learning to love the ugly dog, and eventually becoming united in their defensiveness towards anyone who dares to impugn their (now) beautiful dog. In one sentence I’ve managed to add more tension and legitimacy to their relationship than actually exists.
Margot’s deal is that she is the wrong side of thirty-five for someone who wants kids yesterday. This, again, is an angst goldmine, but the story suggests this fate is hers because of a uniquely terrible thing she did when she was eighteen. Maybe Manning thought the ‘not fitting in with society’s narrow definition of female beauty’ has been Too Done, so she went with the unlikely psychological trauma instead. I wish she’d stuck to the first one, because for me that story is never done, and it would have been far more authentic. There's also no acknowledgement that her strategy with Will is a high-risk one - I mean, 'laying it all out two months in' - and an unlikely one for her, given she just got out of a two-year relationship that lasted only because of her refusal to lay out anything at all.
Then there’s Will. Oh, god. There seems to be an unwritten rule of recent times that the Romance Hero has to have been in therapy or hold every conversation like he’s just eaten a CBT textbook. I understand this to be a refutation of the unhealthy ‘woman saves a man with Love’ trope. It is totally reasonable to jettison this damaging and corrosive trope! But! It doesn’t mean people in a story can’t grow?! You can have someone start damaged and heal from the damage WITH love rather than BECAUSE of it. I speak from bitter experience when I say that doing it without any love is possible, but it is much, much harder. Romance is a fantasy – can we not keep the fantasy of someone loving you enough to support you through painful growth, and not throw out the ‘fixit’ baby with the ‘supportive’ bathwater?