This isn’t an essay about rejection.
This is an opportunity for reflection.
Full disclosure — I know nothing of Dolly Alderton except to say I know she has a couple of personal growth essay compilations out there in the universe. And I also know she’s pretty popular in that genre.
So to see she published a novel was interesting to me in that I could read this with a clean slate — having zero understanding what her take on relationships are. Needing something a little more pop-ish in nature after a couple of my more recent reads, this book looked to fit the bill.
And that it did — I read it in two days.
I was immediately taken in by the story of Andy and Jen, recently broken up and living in present day (pre-pandemic) London. (Note to self: As I type that, it occurs to me the pandemic may have significantly altered this story’s trajectory if Jen had waited another year to break up. Interesting ….)
The novel’s main — nearly almost only — protagonist is in fact Andy, a 35-year-old comedian whose career is in danger from slipping from neutral into reverse. It’s gotten so low he’s either bumming housing off friends and family or subletting single rooms from near strangers. He finds himself in this precarious state because Jen has ended their years-long relationship with, what he feels, is little explanation.
Readers are along for the ride as Andy navigates his newfound singleton status, while remaining in somewhat close proximity to Jen —he’s best friends with Avi while Avi’s wife Jane is best friends with Jane. All that much easier to sulk and stalk at the same time.
Andy is struggling to move past the breakup, and in what feels like true to life, friends and family only have so much patience with the perpetual pity party. And if it’s not Jane, then it’s getting ghosted by a possible love interest. It’s his career stalling out. It’s missing carbs. It’s seeing Jen with someone else.
He. Is. Stuck.
I think one of the reasons “Good Material” was so intriguing is that this was the first time in a long time I read something from the male’s POV in a relationship. And it is decidedly not that much different than how a woman feels. It’s just that as a woman, I haven’t given much thought about their perspective. Makes for interesting reading.
As to the aforementioned reflection — Andy’s mother shares with him an observation about the hurt at the end of a relationship, the loss we experience and that is so difficult to let go of. She opines that once rejected, whenever it happens again, in any number of situations, that feeling is resurrected and you live through it again. And again. And again. Compounding that is the idea you will say goodbye to love lost over and over. You’ll smell someone’s perfume, see an old favorite movie on TV, visit one of your old haunts, and have to say goodbye to that relationship again. But, she adds, it does get easier.
You can move past failed relationships and lost love — romantic, familial or even just friendly — but if you’ve ever loved and lost, there is always going to be an imprint on your soul. And it’s in these moments I am grateful for the time spent and the lessons I derived from them. And, honestly, for those moments when I get to say goodbye again.
Book Club Alert! There is a reading guide at the back of the book — good stuff!
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