Okay, strap in, because this might be a doozy of a review.
On the surface, The Banned Bookshop of Maggie Banks is the kind of book that I would like. It's set in a bookstore, has a plucky heroine working to find her place in the world, and a low-key romance that makes for pleasant reading. In reality, I found myself getting more and more annoyed as I read, and I look forward to telling you why.
The fact that Maggie starts the book opposed to reading, but especially opposed to the idea of reading classics, is a bummer, but clearly part of the plot. She becomes a reader. The continual harping on the idea that classics are all boring and terrible quickly started to piss me off. To be fair, I am just a completed dissertation away from a PhD in American literature, but I also don't think I'm a snob about books. But it's also such a weird disservice to act like all canonical literature is bad because some of it has been forced upon you.
Robinson is clearly familiar with the classics she mentions in this book, so I'm confused about the arguments she's making re: the canon. The discussions about classics vs. genre fiction feel more like she's speaking as a romance writer than just her characters talking. And again—I read romance constantly, as well as thrillers, etc. I am not at all opposed to genre fiction, but I don't know why this is such a this or that type of discussion.
And the fact that Robinson does have familiarity with the texts she mentions and/or criticizes in this book made me even more frustrated when I found the discussions of them to be hollow. At one point, Maggie is convinced to read Beloved by Malcolm, and then complains that if only she'd been assigned a book like that, maybe she'd like reading. Beloved is amazing, I agree. But at what point did she wish she'd been assigned Beloved? Because high schoolers are not ready to read that book, my friends. It is too hard. Maybe in college, but her educational background makes it hard to imagine what classes she'd even take (I do realize I'm nitpicking but I also teach English to college students so this was something I actively thought about while reading).
A bigger gripe: when Maggie arranges a covert book club of sorts in which writers come to genre-bend classics, the first text is Moby-Dick, which will be rewritten as a rom-com (chosen specifically for dick jokes). The romance writer who comes writes about Ahab. Here's the thing, though. If any person ever has read Moby-Dick, you KNOW that the way to rewrite that book as a romance is a queer love story between Ishmael and Queequeg. It is all but on the actual pages of Moby-Dick! You could even write about Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne! Moby-Dick is a book I am very ambivalent about because it is deeply boring sometimes but it is also a book about some guys who are very in love with each other. The fact that this is missed is not only annoying, but tells me Maggie (or Robinson, depending how invested she is in this argument) sort of doesn't know enough to make the criticisms that are here.
Okay, I'm hitting my stride. One of Maggie's missions is learning more about Edward Bell, a fictional famous dead white guy author whose works create the tourism industry for the town she's in, but who she also imagines is a shady character. She disagrees about the feminism of his work (a thing I won't get into, even though I could), and eventually sneaks to find his hidden letters which reveal that he had a mistress from whom he plagiarized his work. The weird thing here is that Maggie seems first more concerned with the idea that Bell's having a mistress obviously means his works cannot be considered feminist, which is some kind of logic I've never heard. The bigger problem I have with all this fictional author business is the idea that somehow learning of the mistress (and even the plagiarism, really) would diminish his status and intrigue for tourism. This isn't how authors or artists get to be preserved! We are interested in all the parts of them—including the contradictory, gnarly, messy bits that they might not have revealed during their lives. As someone who's a little obsessed with Hemingway, I say this with some authority.
I could go on, but one last thing. If it isn't clear, I really disliked Maggie as a character. I found her to be uncompromising and dismissive and rude to the people who cared about her. I really hated that she and Malcolm made their deal, in which she'd create a list of adventures for him to go on while she read a classic in exchange, only for her to barely hold up her end of the bargain. It felt like the message was "well, he's the one who needs to change by getting out more, but I don't really need to read these books." And sure, she doesn't actually "need" to read them, but you've created a relationship with this person! Why do you get to tell him how he should be more interesting but do nothing in return? I really wanted him to just dump her and move on by the end, but that's not really how these things work.
Alas, I'll stop ranting. It's fair to say this book garnered some serious reactions from me, I just wish they had been more positive.