“The Notebook” by Nicholas Sparks

Book: The Notebook
Author: Nicholas Sparks

First off, if you haven’t figured it this is a BOOK review. Not a movie review as I have still not seen this movie. Nevertheless, there are spoilers within, which I assume would extend to the film version, for you lazy sacks who’d rather watch the movie than actually read. You have thus been warned.

~

From what I have heard from others and about the movie, I knew what I’d be in for. A sappy, romantic ‘tear-jerker.’ And in that respect, it delivers.

What did I think of the book?

It is seriously sentimental trash.

And I enjoyed it.

Well, kind of.

I liked it enough that I am pissed off with myself. And also pissed off with the book/author, for I think the very fact that this was an insanely successful best-seller speaks volumes. We lap up such trite and believe in happily ever after, though we need to look to fiction for it because we see so few instances of it in real life.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t believe in love or want happiness. I still believe in it, and there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being in love (except, maybe, eating Nutella). However, whilst some might hold up ‘The Notebook’ as an ideal – a love story that epitomises true romance – the book is really not as fantastic as it’s hyped up to be. Let me be clear here: I have no qualms with the story being predictable and unoriginal (it’s clear who ends up together), and give it props for exploring the relationship of geriatrics, but that’s about it. The story-telling itself is often trite and uninspired.

It contains tedious, unoriginal and repetitive description (which is surprising as Sparks had clearly adopted the ‘no-frills’ approach to economical writing). Whilst repetition can be a useful literary device, in this case it did nothing to add to the story or the characters, who are themselves so incredibly cliched and cut out of a mould. Some other flaws included implausible situations and reactions, and an unrealistic (romanticised) account of sex, which in itself is unforgivable. It really is. Don’t believe me? Here’s an extract for you:

“Their bodies reflected everything given, everything taken, and she was rewarded with a sensation she never knew existed. It went on and on, tingling throughout her body and warming her before finally subsiding, and she struggled to catch her breath while she trembled beneath him. But the moment it was over, another one started to building again, and she started to feel them in long sequences, one right after the next.”

What is this? Mills and Boon? Someone hand me a puke bucket, please, and silence my inner bullshit detector alarm. Seriously, it’s been something like 14 years since the first (and last/only) time this woman has had sex. Fiction or not  – the above is not going to happen.

On another note, whilst I thought that the shift between third and first person narratives interesting and on the whole, successful, there was something very inconsistent with Sparks’ writing style. His choice of expressions and ill-considered use of certain words and phrases, which fit neither the character nor tone, often stuck out like a sore thumb. (See what I did there, by ending with a lame cliche? That was intentional to exemplify how the book reads).

And yes, I realise how arrogant it is for me to be criticising a best-seller when I often express myself poorly and have not written a novel before (let alone had one published and topping best-seller lists). On the whole though, it’s a decent book, and has a few glimpses of meaningful insight on love and nature.

So why bother writing about it at all? I guess I need to confess that my biggest qualm is the characters themselves. They’re simply not believable. Noah, for instance, is so ridiculously perfect that he simply cannot exist. Even Lon, the other main man, is so unfathomably loving and understanding despite the fact his fiance lied to him, went back to find her ex, and shagged her ex senseless, all whilst still engaged. But Noah… yes, back to Noah. He’s completely and utterly perfect. And yes, it bugged the shit out of me. (Though I have been told the characters aren’t so perfect in the movie version, which simply reinforces to me that the makers also found them to lack credibility). Man, whilst I am convinced that Noah can’t actually exist, if any one actually knows a man like Noah, bloody tell him to contact me. I’d love to be proven wrong in this instance.

Hmm… I’m sure the amount of fiction I’ve consumed in my day has just given me completely unrealistic notions and expectations of men in general. Perhaps, for the most part, because the well-characterised ones are so fleshed out and… real. Like Austen’s Mr. Darcy, for instance. However, this was one of the few times where I simply could just not buy that these characters could be so perfect. This isn’t Disney and I honestly couldn’t help but find some of the letters to be sappy drivel.

But not going to lie….

I still cried.

Yup, at one point I actually cried into my pillow as I absorbed the sappy trash.

And I’m sure I will when I watch the film adaptation too.

Ahhh… I feel so ashamed…

~ by chenisms on December 2, 2008.