I never thought I’d find a contemporary-adjacent YA that fits in my books that will cause problems on purpose list, but now I have!
The Pursuit of Miss Heartbreak Hotel is gorgeous and deeply, unapologetically weird, to the point that there are entire sentences of which I don’t understand the meaning; it’s full of strange choices in wording and imagery that contribute to it becoming a goldmine for cursed™ quotes; and there’s a deliberate attention to rhythm in word choice and sentence structure to mimic the pattern of anxiety-fueled obsessive thinking acting on language. It’s really good and kind of unreadable, by which I mean perfect in a genre that most of the time doesn’t even know how it would look like to take a risk. Weird is a good thing to be!
⇝ so, what is this book
This is technically a story about Lu, who during the last year of high school starts to reconnect with a girl who was once her friend and may now be something different. At the same time, she’s dealing with the fact that her grandmother is terminally ill.
This is actually a queer coming-of-age story that feels at the same time surreal, unrealistic and more real than reality, dancing between completely removed and uncomfortably close. It talks about periods, masturbation, sexual desire, drug use, self-harm and the significant repercussions of casual homophobia more unflinchingly than most contemporary YA I’ve read, but does so in its own way – which is to say, everyone speaks in slang all the time for reasons that aren’t given. They’re clearly there – I don’t think anything in this book can be described as casual – and I do not get them. This choice gives this book a very unique voice, and also got in the way of me feeling actual emotions about what was happening multiple times. Unusual choices were also made when it came to imagery, and I want all of you to witness what is probably the most cursed description of a sex scene I’ve ever had to read:
She’s anemone and I am clown and I swim gently into her stunning embrace.
This book: metaphors!
Me, a person who has sadly experienced tumblr: I never want to see the world “clown” in anything related to sex ever again
⇝ hypotheses on the slang
A common critique seems to be that no one speaks like this. I think the book is fully aware of that, given that in here everyone speaks like this. I don’t think this was a failed attempt at connecting with the youth, given that as far as ESL me understands, this is… not necessarily modern slang? Like, girls are betties and cigarettes are tars and I don’t think that’s contemporary – the author isn’t that old. Was this an unusual attempt to make the story feel timeless by dating it the wrong way?
Or maybe it’s a choice based on sound over meaning. Because:
⇝ an interpretation that turned out being canon
I was drawn to this book mainly because the writing has a rhythm I’m familiar with, the one my brain has when it gets stuck on something. It’s hard to define anxiety-disorder-sourced obsessive thoughts in terms of sound, but one thing my brain does is to turn certain sentences whose rhythm it finds pleasing in the non-musical version of an earworm. Well, so many sentences here match that rhythm and have repetitive and rhyming patterns, which, again, is a stuck brain hour™ sign. To give you an idea of how… unmistakable it is, this is the quote from the preview that made me decide I had to read this book:
And she’s cracking up and I’m all aglow.
Glow little glowworm, glimmer, glimmer.
I laugh and hum and pick up my marker and draw.
Shine little glowworm, shimmer, shimmer.
Sometimes it’s not that blatant, sometimes it’s just in the descriptions of a person being everyday, every-guy, average hit hero, or Lu being errands-girl extraordinarie (notice how this time it didn’t use “betty”! It’s a sound thing), or the beach being clash, rubble-and-trash-strewn excuse of a shore – the oh-so satisfying feeling of these words, they match! It feels almost cozy. And it takes a lot of skill to get there, because while I have this, uh, gift, I can’t actually make it happen deliberately to write weird poetry.
Then, as it turns out:
Then I get all slo-mo OCD and spell each word out, fitting spaces and hyphens into random places, feeling the different sizes and rhythms on my tongue. Just me and my obsessive anxiety disorder, having a blast, […]
Phrases loop in my mind, round and round, like a rogue Ferris wheel spun way out of whack. I count and I count. So mop, so OCD. Hello, my name is Lucy Butler and I’m a compulsive letter counter.
As I said: deliberate! This book only causes problems on purpose, as the best ones do.
More seriously: I love weird, clearly, and I love talking about it half joking and half in awe. What I don’t love is people calling something bad writing because it doesn’t match their experience of how a human mind works.
⇝ an interpretation that didn’t, but hear me out
Identity is a complex matter. At the same time, such strong non-binary vibes from Lu.
⇝ but Acqua, the story?
It’s mostly about finding courage – to take a chance and tell a girl you like her; to dump your toxic boyfriend and homophobic friends; to be there for the rest of your family when they need you. The F/F romance is sweet and just messy enough, because the characters are dealing with mental illness and casual homophobia, both internalized and not – even though most people in Lu’s life don’t actually mean to hurt her that way.
It’s good and at the same time enhanced and overshadowed by the writing.
My rating: ★★★★