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ninetalevixen 's review for:
The Girl He Used to Know
by Tracey Garvis Graves
I won this book through a Goodreads giveaway and received a copy from St. Martin's Press for review purposes. This does not affect my rating or opinions.
content warnings:
I love second-chance stories, because I strongly believe that sometimes it really is a case of right person, wrong time — and we rarely get the opportunity to set those what-ifs to rest. But I don't love what the "unforeseen tragedy" in this case turned out to be, not least because it's tropey; I'm tired of seeing certain things portrayed as though they are the worst thing that could happen to a woman, and it's glossed over that it's just the catalyst, not the underlying reason for their separation. The climax also bothers me, not because it was poorly done but because I worry that as a society we're becoming desensitized to tragedy. Really, this ambivalence sums up how I felt about this book — I really liked the characters, but I had significant issues with certain aspects of the plot.
Admittedly I don't read romance often, but I haven't seen very many explicitly autistic female leads in literature in general. ([b:The Kiss Quotient|36199084|The Kiss Quotient|Helen Hoang|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1527983633s/36199084.jpg|57828311] obviously comes to mind, but this review is not about that book.) So with that said, I have a few major issues with the way it's presented in this book, and they feel more consequential because every instance of representation seems to matter more when there are so few.
First is the way Annika's tendencies, for lack of a better word, are treated as unique but cute "quirks" (just look at the summary!); Jonathan even says to a friend that she's different "not just from any girl [he'd] ever dated before, but from most people in general," in addition to comparing her to his cutthroat exes every time she misses a social cue. And while a decade is a long time, definitely long enough for someone to consciously change their behavior, I'm not entirely comfortable with Jonathan's implied perception that Annika has magically managed (with therapy) to "fix" the worst parts of her behavior, or the way he continues to push her out of her comfort zone and get angry/impatient when she can't keep up with his expectations. Really, Jonathan's perspective in general bothers me in several ways, and I'm not sure it really adds a ton to the narrative.
There's a difference between being socially awkward and being autistic, and the difference is not a medical diagnosis; so I really appreciate that other symptoms were included, like overwhelming overstimulation through sound and scent, difficulty putting yourself in others' shoes, and stimming. I also appreciate that the diagnosis process was included, since it can grant some peace of mind and help autistic people and their loved ones find helpful resources (though of course it's not absolutely necessary, and until relatively recently wasn't even an option — this is addressed too!). So Annika's perspective and concerns rang pretty true for me, though everyone's experience will naturally be different. However, throughout the book, she'll misinterprets something because she's naive and/or literal-minded, and it felt like it was played for comedic effect, i.e. we were invited to laugh at her, and that made me uncomfortable.
tl;dr This book is well-written enough to have 4-star potential, but some major issues keep me from really enjoying it.
content warnings:
Spoiler
explicit sexual content, ableist comments, drug use (pot), animal death (very minor & off the page), date-rape/non-consensual voyeurism setup (interrupted before it becomes sexual), ectopic pregnancy & miscarriage, depression, suicide ideation, 9/11I love second-chance stories, because I strongly believe that sometimes it really is a case of right person, wrong time — and we rarely get the opportunity to set those what-ifs to rest. But I don't love what the "unforeseen tragedy" in this case turned out to be, not least because it's tropey; I'm tired of seeing certain things portrayed as though they are the worst thing that could happen to a woman, and it's glossed over that it's just the catalyst, not the underlying reason for their separation. The climax also bothers me, not because it was poorly done but because I worry that as a society we're becoming desensitized to tragedy. Really, this ambivalence sums up how I felt about this book — I really liked the characters, but I had significant issues with certain aspects of the plot.
Admittedly I don't read romance often, but I haven't seen very many explicitly autistic female leads in literature in general. ([b:The Kiss Quotient|36199084|The Kiss Quotient|Helen Hoang|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1527983633s/36199084.jpg|57828311] obviously comes to mind, but this review is not about that book.) So with that said, I have a few major issues with the way it's presented in this book, and they feel more consequential because every instance of representation seems to matter more when there are so few.
First is the way Annika's tendencies, for lack of a better word, are treated as unique but cute "quirks" (just look at the summary!); Jonathan even says to a friend that she's different "not just from any girl [he'd] ever dated before, but from most people in general," in addition to comparing her to his cutthroat exes every time she misses a social cue. And while a decade is a long time, definitely long enough for someone to consciously change their behavior, I'm not entirely comfortable with Jonathan's implied perception that Annika has magically managed (with therapy) to "fix" the worst parts of her behavior, or the way he continues to push her out of her comfort zone and get angry/impatient when she can't keep up with his expectations. Really, Jonathan's perspective in general bothers me in several ways, and I'm not sure it really adds a ton to the narrative.
There's a difference between being socially awkward and being autistic, and the difference is not a medical diagnosis; so I really appreciate that other symptoms were included, like overwhelming overstimulation through sound and scent, difficulty putting yourself in others' shoes, and stimming. I also appreciate that the diagnosis process was included, since it can grant some peace of mind and help autistic people and their loved ones find helpful resources (though of course it's not absolutely necessary, and until relatively recently wasn't even an option — this is addressed too!). So Annika's perspective and concerns rang pretty true for me, though everyone's experience will naturally be different. However, throughout the book, she'll misinterprets something because she's naive and/or literal-minded, and it felt like it was played for comedic effect, i.e. we were invited to laugh at her, and that made me uncomfortable.
tl;dr This book is well-written enough to have 4-star potential, but some major issues keep me from really enjoying it.