(7.3.20: Brief note added to the end.)
I hate everything about Abbi Waxman’s The Bookish Life of Nina Hill. The shallow characters. The inane, trite dialogue that is mostly composed of trading quips about pop culture. The poorly constructed plot. The ridiculous, unconvincing romance. The silly errors that make me believe the author read her manuscript only once and her editor read it never. Mostly I hate that Waxman has written a book that tries to pass off being an avid book reader as a personality trait, and not even a positive one: apparently book lovers are always loners, friendless, socially awkward, too smart for their own good, and anxious wrecks—AKA introverts.
Nina Hill is a 29 year old who lives in Larchmont, an LA neighborhood. She works at Knights, the local bookstore, is a killer at trivia quizzes, and leads a contented, uncomplicated life…until a lawyer walks into the bookstore and tells her she has a family she’s never met. This doesn’t make Nina happy. It’s a complication and she does not like complications. Plus, she may or may not have a crush on a trivia competitor—and true love is another complication she doesn’t want. Will Nina’s extensive trivia knowledge and her love of Harry Potter be enough to help her cope?
I had hoped that this book would be a fun, light, amusing read—a break from my much more serious nonfiction reading. It is not. It’s so awful I’ve been compelled to take pages of notes and stick post-its to several pages of this book. TBLoNH provided few instances of genuine humor and enjoyment. There will be no spoiler alerts in this review. The happy outcome for the bookstore and Nina’s romance is never in doubt. On page 39, I have a post-it note predicting exactly how the bookstore will be saved and—no surprise—I was right. Other intelligent readers will likewise not be surprised, although they may be taken aback by how much orange artificial cheese coats the entire last 15 pages or so. It’s vomit-inducing.
As a person, Nina is a fail. Granted, all the characters in the book are failures, but Nina is the main character and thus the most important. Not only is she a failure, she’s a bore. Despite having lived her entire life in LA, her only friends are her bookstore coworkers and trivia teammates. What about high school and college friends? Oh, yeah, that’s right. She loves books so automatically that makes her a friendless loser because no one likes readers! (Although I’m not convinced Nina is much of a reader. This novel covers a 3-4 month span, but in that time she’s described reading only one book. That is not the sign of an avid reader.) In Nina, Waxman created a character with absolutely no character. Her personality seems to be limited to loving books and having a sporadic, needed-only-when-the-plot-calls-for-it anxiety disorder. Loving books is not a personality. Nor is having anxiety, but Waxman bases Nina’s entire character on these two things. What I know about Nina doesn’t impress me. Despite having a globe-trotting mother, not only doesn’t she travel, she seems to have no curiosity about the world outside her immediate area. Even though she’s supposedly socially awkward with anxiety issues (again, an introverted book lover), she’s incredibly handy with quips and zippy comebacks. Not that I think she’s all that witty or smart; her dialogue is loaded with pop culture references, heavy on Harry Potter. This description of Nina basically works for the majority of the characters in this book. They are all variations of Nina. They all have the same facetious, jokey way of speaking. They are all book lovers (I’ll address Tom the love interest later). Nina’s newfound family consists of Nina clones—or maybe she is the clone of them? Everyone, from the dead father she never knew down to Millie, her young half-sister—looks like her, likes the same food, and loves books, which marks them as either current or past friendless losers with on-going anxiety issues. This is such bullshit.
Waxman stereotypes pretty much everyone in this book. Peter, Nina’s nephew, introduces himself to her by announcing that he is “gay and fabulous” and proceeds to be exactly that. All the children are precocious and adorable in that cheesy, crappy tv sitcom style I love to hate. Readers’ personalities are defined according to reading interests: mystery readers are like X, nonfiction=X, romance readers are very X (I’d quote it but can’t find the damn passage in the book--update: page 293. Quoted in comments section below). The idea that most readers cross genres and read a whole lot of everything doesn’t seem possible in Nina’s world. The most egregious stereotyping is book lovers as social rejects. Nina, Millie, dead father—all specifically cite their love of books as a reason for their social awkwardness. Millie says she sometimes has friends, but most of the time she doesn’t because they don’t read books other than Harry Potter and because they don’t read the same books she does, she can’t talk to them. Not only that, they think she’s weird because she’s smart and asks questions (247-248). Of course, Nina identifies with her: “[The conversation] was giving her flashbacks to her own school years. Recess and lunch, finding a spot to be alone, and then half wishing someone would find you” (247). More bullshit. Being a reader doesn’t automatically mean you are a friendless loser. Why the hell does Waxman want to perpetuate this stereotype? I read a lot as a child and I had a lot of friends. It’s fucking possible to love books AND have friends and even—gasp!—have friends who aren’t readers. I also call bullshit on the automatic definition of introvert AS loner and friendless loser. That’s not who an introvert is. I’m so sick of seeing this. I’m an introvert. I have friends who are introverts. It doesn’t make us losers or anti-social bomb-building terrorists. It means that you are very comfortable being alone, but that doesn’t mean you avoid human interaction. I enjoy meeting people and will basically talk to anyone. However, as an introvert, I need time alone to recharge my battery because people are exhausting. The main differences between extroverts and introverts is how we choose to relax and what refreshes us; it’s not sane and social vs. unbalanced and loser loner. It’d be fucking delightful if authors and mass media would stop the lazy depiction of introvert=freak.
The other egregious error of this book is depicting Nina as suffering from an anxiety disorder. Her feelings of anxiety are inconsistent and depend on the demands of the plot. Nina says she schedules her life so thoroughly because her routines keep her anxiety at bay; unscheduled activities and surprises cause anxiety attacks. Bullshit. Nina rarely follows her own damn routine (as detailed in the over-the-top cutesy planner pages). Almost every diary entry has some form of “go shopping” but she never does. If yoga doesn’t happen, well, that’s okay too. Nina shrugs and goes home. Having last-minute lunch plans with her fabulous gay nephew? Not a twinge of anxiety. The only time Nina feels anxiety or has an anxiety attack (and let me say that the author uses “panic attack” and “anxiety attack” interchangeably. THEY ARE NOT. These are two different disorders. It’s possible for one person to have both, but they are NOT the same. Waxman, get your goddamn facts straight) is when the plot calls for it. Meeting the guy she sorta likes? Ooops, she has an anxiety attack because, you know, she’s an introverted book loving socially awkward freak. Plus, that’s a plot device Waxman will need to use again. Having an anxiety disorder isn’t something you can just turn on and off. I know this because I have an anxiety disorder. It’s not fun and it’s not a convenient plot point. So to read this book in which the author uses anxiety as a way of defining personality and to move the plot forward really, really pisses me off.
There are very few intelligent conversations. Most of the dialogue is throw-away quips and one-liners and heavy on the pop culture references. The entire dick pic/penis conversation at the beginning of the book is incredibly juvenile, more so considering all the women are over the age of 15. And the characters all sound alike. Nina sounds like Peter sounds like Liz sounds like Polly sounds like Lisa sounds like dead father. Tom’s the only character who isn’t a reader, but Nina (after some resistance) graciously forgives him this and loves him anyway. The romance is underwhelming. They both act like virginal dating neophytes instead of adults of 29 and 30. I particularly detested the Grand Gesture during the quiz tournament (btw, I would have totally aced that question) and how nobly Tom forgives her for having an anxiety disorder and then takes her to his work space and shows her the spot he’ll set up just for her so she can sit there and read and admire him while he builds his bookshelves. That’s fucking creepy. The all-you-need-is-a-big-strong-man-to-take-care-of-you vibe is irritating. Let me tell you, anxiety doesn’t give a shit about the status of your love life. Nina can have a crew of big strong men (readers or not) and that won’t solve her fucking anxiety.
The idiotic errors. On page 13, Nina comes home from work and turns on the kettle. A few paragraphs later, she’s pouring herself a glass of wine (15). What happened to the kettle? When Nina meets Peter for lunch, she apparently forgets she has to return to work because they both go shopping and then she goes home (68). Huh. That wasn’t in the planner. Nina states many times that she doesn’t travel and has never set foot outside of California (as an adult). Yet when she describes her collection of Peter Rabbit books in different languages, she says, well, she and her mom hadn’t been to all of those countries together. This implies Nina travels (181). And on 183, Waxman writes: “Libraries were her favorite places, and when she traveled, she would start out at the local library, thus immediately identifying herself as a total nerd.” (Or maybe as a smart person who just likes to check out libraries. Being smart isn’t by default a nerdy or negative thing.) Um, Nina never fucking travels. Possibly Waxman at one time conceived of Nina as a traveler but changed her mind and not her manuscript. Lastly, Nina accompanies Peter to his mother’s house. A woman drops off a rescued dog for Becky (the mom) to examine…and then the shelter woman disappears (214). Poof! She doesn’t leave, she just vanishes from the novel. Excellent!
There are serious themes in this book, but they are completely mishandled. Nina’s mother basically abandoned her to be raised by a nanny and is rarely present. Wouldn’t that cause Nina some resentment? If so, it’s very subtle. Mom also lied about knowing who Nina’s father is and legally prevented him from contacting Nina. Mom says she did this to protect Nina from him because he’d be a crappy father, but she denied Nina from knowing her father and her extended family. Is Nina upset about this? Nah. Dead father, in his letter to Nina, says he watched over her as she grew up. Why the hell didn’t he fight for his legal rights as a father? He would have won. Why didn’t he bother to contact her when she turned 18? Who knows why. There’s no fucking logic to any of this—it’s drama Waxman created to have the drama. Despite what mom said, he did want to be a part of Nina’s life. Why he wasn’t is just lazy writing and piss poor plot development. Nina’s response to all of this is confusing. She doesn’t seem angry, resentful—any normal emotion you’d expect under these circumstances. Why not? Lazy writing. She is anxious though and frankly the anxiety is tied more to her being an introvert than her family dynamics.
The possible demise of the bookstore you’d think would be anxiety-producing for Nina. Nope. Despite Mr. Meffo visiting the store attempting to get his rent payment, Nina the idiot thinks it’s funny: “She’d always kind of assumed the dance about the rent was just one of those things, a normal part of business” (156). Look at Liz, the crappy store manager, hide from Mr. Meffo! Ha ha!
Nina, you’re a fucking idiot. In what world is it “a normal part of business” to be late in paying your fucking rent? She pays rent. Does she think it’s hilarious to pay her rent weeks late? I’m sure if Harry Potter did it somewhere, she’d do it too. Supposedly this woman has an anxiety disorder. I’m guessing that even the hint of the bookstore closing, thus depriving her of income, would be a HUGE disruption of her scheduled activities. The first time Mr. Meffo came looking for rent, Nina the realistic character would have: gotten a sinking feeling in her stomach, asked Liz about the rent repeatedly, stayed awake worrying about it, polished up her resume, checked her bank account and cut expenses, worried more, stayed in a more or less consistent state of nausea, and made numerous contingency plans in the off-chance she would be unemployed. Being anxious means going immediately for the worst-case scenario. Nina would have done all of those things, not shrugged it off. When does she finally have an anxiety attack? Oh yeah, when the plot requires it. She goes from zero anxiety to a million. Again, for someone with anxiety, that’s fucking bullshit. She’d also be thinking—hey, my dad was rich. I’m in the will. Maybe he left me money. That’s not a horrible thought to have. It’s normal. Does she EVER think this? Ever show any curiosity about why she’s in the will and what he may have left her? Again, never.
The Bookish Life of Nina Hill is a disgrace. The writing is overly cutesy, the pop culture references are off-putting and a lazy way to define characters, all the characters sound almost exactly the same…this book fucking sucks. Book lovers are not anxious social misfits. Waxman’s use of an anxiety disorder to define Nina is fucking awful and unrealistic. The reader’s guide discussion questions at the end—are you fucking kidding me? And one last thing…why the fuck does Phil the cat talk? What the fuck! I hated this book with every fiber of my being. I recommend it to NO ONE, unless you are teaching a class on shitty novels.
Note about Introverts:
I was recently talking to a friend about a shared acquaintance. We were listing her negative qualities & Sally finished with "...and she's an introvert!" Me: "Now, hold on. I'm an introvert." Sally: "You're not an introvert!" (She was shocked, like I had just called myself a pedophile.) Me: "Yeah, nothing wrong with introverts." Sooo...this anecdote supports my argument that media/pop culture loves to paint introversion as an extremely undesirable personality trait, when it's nothing of the sort.