Monday, August 28, 2017

Under Rose-Tainted Skies by Louise Gornall Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I'm being forced to challenge ideas that have kept me safe for so long. There's an entire library of information in my head, and suddenly I can't decide if any of it is worth reading.”- Under Rose-Tainted Skies, Louise Gornall
At seventeen, Norah has accepted that the four walls of her house delineate her life. She knows that fearing everything from inland tsunamis to odd numbers is irrational, but her mind insists the world outside is too big, too dangerous. So she stays safe inside, watching others’ lives through her windows and social media feed.

But when Luke arrives on her doorstep, he doesn’t see a girl defined by medical terms and mental health. Instead, he sees a girl who is funny, smart, and brave. And Norah likes what he sees.

Their friendship turns deeper, but Norah knows Luke deserves a normal girl. One who can walk beneath the open sky. One who is unafraid of kissing. One who isn’t so screwed up. Can she let him go for his own good—or can Norah learn to see herself through Luke’s eyes?

So, the cover of this book is really pretty. I'd be tempted to call this a cover buy, but I read it on an e-reader and those don't count in my opinion. Also, I did like the synopsis on the back of the book. 

But honestly, I feel like the cover and the inside flap are total teases. When you look at it or open it up, it seems to promise the kind of beautiful, deep prose and plot that evokes an almost Challenger Deep vibe, a dark and personal exploration of mental illness. Instead, this novel is more along the same lines as Everything, Everything, being a cute and fluffy romantic contemporary. This isn't necessarily a negative thing, but it's just like going to a fine art gallery expecting a collection of Edward Hopper paintings and instead getting nothing but Thomas Kinkade.

I feel like this book is to Everything, Everything what All the Bright Places was to The Fault in Our Stars. Of course by saying that I feel the need to preface by saying I didn't hate Everything, Everything. I mean, I didn't love it in the way many people seem to, but it was okay and harmless. I think at the end of the day I'd rather have Everything, Everything knock-offs flooding the shelves than The Fault in Our Stars knock-offs. But seriously, Gornall could have tried to make it a little less obvious, couldn't she?

The chick in this book is an agoraphobe (that still PC?) (Ah, who the hell cares?). This is initially what drew me into the novel, because I don't know any agoraphobes personally and the only fictional characters I can name who are are that old lady from Love, Stargirl and Harold from Twin Peaks, who was only in like three episodes but solidified my opinion that Donna is a bitch. Anyway, so besides those two characters, I was curious to see agoraphobia from the eyes of someone who struggled with it. So anyway, she can't leave her house. You know who else can't leave her house? Madeline from Everything, Everything! Okay fine, I'll give Gornall a point there, since the whole point of the book is that she's afraid to leave the house and not forced to stay inside like Madeline. But then, a cute boy moves in! One who is real trendy and has nice hair and eyes and of course is, in the words of Mary Poppins, practically perfect. I hate male characters like that almost as much as male characters that are the exact opposite. No boy is that attractive and understanding and deep and whatever as Luke and by extension Olly since Luke is basically him except alternative. Both also have daddy issues, which means that Olly's dad hits him and Luke's dad "disappears". Also, both girls are exceptionally close with their mothers, have the burning desire to become architects (though there is no evidence whatsoever on Norah's part that she actually has an interest in architecture), and have dream places to go to. In Norah's case it's France, which makes me wonder what draws her to France. There's a reason for Madeline to want to go to Hawaii, a very good reason actually, but why France? 

Also, they both take place in California, which makes no sense given the author is English. I'm not saying you have to be from somewhere to write a book that takes place somewhere, but why California? Because books that take place in CA sell really well? Because that's where Everything, Everything took place? And, of course, the main story line is about how their relationships open them up to a whole new world, especially when their illnesses hold them back from doing normal couple-y things like kiss and even hold hands. I don't really have a problem with this story line, even if it does come across as the best cure for crippling agoraphobia is a cute boy, because I'm partial to cute boys myself the book is a meet-cute romance. If it was a serious book akin to the above mentioned Challenger Deep, I'd feel obligated to call it out. But in this book it's light and sweet and it's not like the characters are particularly realistic anyway. 

Also, did you notice that romance novels lately have been returning to the whole star-crossed lovers thing? But now we've got cancer, mental illness, and immune disorders (and also mental illness) keeping our lovers apart. Makes me nostalgic for the good old days of family drama.

The actual writing itself is not my favorite. It was okay, but something felt off about it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I think learning that the author was British cleared a lot of my confusion about the language up given that it did kind of sound like she learned all the American slang in the novel from watching American sitcoms. I will say this in her favor, though, no accidental British-isms slipped through. Still, there's also a lot of telling not showing, and the characters weren't really that well developed.

Look, I didn't hate this book. It just honestly wasn't my taste, and, again, the fact I was expecting something a little more serious kind of just dampened my enthusiasm for the novel. That, and the major rip-off vibes I got, which always sours a book on me. I don't always demand originality from my books- thought it helps- but I do want one that isn't that transparent. I get that the book is written from the author's own experiences, and that this review makes me look like a massive bitch, but a book can still be unoriginal even if the author went through something similar. And I don't really think I learned anything new about OCD or agoraphobia or anxiety or whatever else is in this book. What I'm saying is, despite the seemingly heavy subject matter, this book is cotton candy. I doubt I'll remember it much in a few months.


6 out of 10

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