Kate Goldbeck grew up in a literal village and always dreamed of living in New York, even though her parents warned her that the apartments on Friends were not realistic. In college, she studied film and art history—limiting her employment prospects to "film museum." This line of work did not lead to sitcom-sized living arragments. Since earning a master's degree at an engineering school, she's designed award-winning museum exhibits and immersive experiences all over the world. She adores bantering with her partner, falling asleep to British audiobook narrators, and scratching dogs behind the ears. You can find her online at kategoldbeck.com or on Instagram @kategoldbeck.
When Ari and Josh first meet, the wrong kind of sparks fly. They hate each other. Instantly. A free-spirited struggling comedian, Ari likes to keep things casual and never sleeps over after hooking up. Josh, a born-and-bred New Yorker, has ambitious plans to take the culinary world by storm and find The One. They have absolutely nothing in common . . . except that they happen to be sleeping with the same woman. Ari and Josh never expect their paths to cross again. But years later, as they're both reeling from ego-bruising breakups, a chance encounter leads to a surprising connection: friendship. Turns out, spending time with your former nemesis is fun when you're too sad to hate each other—and too sad for hate sex. As friends-without-benefits, they find comfort in late-night Netflix binges, swiping through each other's online dating profiles, and bickering across boroughs. Until one night, the unspoken boundaries of their platonic relationships begin to blur. . . . With sharp observations and sizzling chemistry, You, Again explores the dynamics of coed friendship in this irresistible romantic comedy of modern love in all its forms.
I want to start with what really did work. For one thing, the writing was addicting. I finished this book in two days—and it's 400 pages long, meaning 200 pages each day. I was surprised by how addicting it was, and I think the fun approach—including texts, time jumping—helped it feel like a quick read. I will also be the first to tell you that all the best love stories take place in NYC. While at times it can feel a little aggressive and inaccessible, Kate Goldbeck's New York feels authentic and that is endorsed by the list of NYC restaurants/landmarks at the end.
Now for the hard part.
In When Harry Met Sally, the titular characters are unlikable to one another and maybe a little bit unlikeable to the audience, but they're relatable in their unlikeableness. That's why and how, against all odds, the movie works. In You, Again, both characters are unlikeable and not relatable at all (more on this later). I understand that this book is not meant to be an exact retelling by any means, but more of an homage. In that case, this is where I expected the book to deliver, and it didn't. While we become acquainted with the quirks that Ari and Josh have that bother the other, it's difficult to discern what they actually like about one another, which makes it difficult for us as readers to understand why we're rooting for them.
This is exacerbated by the fact that we don't really get to know Josh and Ari. Josh is a chef who disagreed with his father and was alienated from him for years until he died and Josh inherited his father's deli. Ari is trying to make in the big city as a comedian, but spends most of her time with one of three people. Past that, I couldn't really tell you who these characters are—why does Ari want to do comedy, why is it her passion, why did she move to NYC in the first place? why does she hide behind humor and why does she always run away? why does Josh believe in forever love? why does Josh not talk to his dad for years (it doesn't make sense to me that they'd disagree about recipes and then not talk for years and years, especially since Josh seems well-adjusted otherwise)? What motivates these characters? What is their story? Even at the worst point in their lives (which is honestly a good chunk of the middle of the novel), I didn't have a good sense of who they were, and why they felt so disappointed in their career and personal setbacks.
A quick note on relatability versus likability: To be clear, I 100% believe in unlikable characters. What I cannot abide by is unrelatable characters. I'm not saying that I have to have lived the exact same life as the MCs in order to view them as relatable, but I did to find a point of contact where I can grasp onto the type of person they are. (oh, they struggle with xyz? I struggle with abc, I understand what that's like, bam relatability. oh, they had this pivotal experience that changed how they thought about zyx? I also had a pivotal moment in my life, bam relatability.)
To me, Josh and Ari felt more like caricatures—the quirky bisexual FMC and the brooding all-black-wearing MMC—than characters to relate to. Because I didn't understand them as individuals, I also didn't believe in their character growth by the end of the novel. Because I wasn't sure what motivated them as individuals, I didn't understand how they motivated themselves to grow as people in order to be the right fit for one another.
To back-track a bit: I didn't believe in these characters as individuals (they weren't relatable on top of being unlikeable) which meant that I wasn't sure why I was supposed to root for them to get together. While the banter exists, I did not believe the characters had any chemistry (especially after reading the scene where they are intimate). I felt that the romance depended on readers wanting the characters to get together by the end, rather than depending on the author building on-the-page dynamics and the foundation for a solid HEA/HFN readers could get behind.
So far, my biggest point of contention is how we don't know who these characters are and where they came from, and that we're just expected to believe they should end up together because it's a romance novel. I just need a little bit more than that.
Now, for the plot. Spoilers ahead.
I personally enjoyed the structure—the time jumps worked well for me, and I enjoyed how it reflected When Harry Met Sally. Honestly, the quick time jumps at the beginning didn't give me any trouble. It's the ones at the end, combined with what was actually happening, that gave me whiplash.
Specifically, between pages 250 and 350, I felt like so much was happening. After they finally are intimate and Ari is vulnerable is convinced to stay the night, she says "I love you" and then runs out, and then they went on a break—and once they finally reconnect when the break is over, they don't even have a conversation about Ari's hesitancy or Josh's hopes before Josh is inviting Ari to come live with him. I was completely taken aback by the pacing between these 100 pages because they never had a conversation about their feelings; this is also part of the reason why the ending of the novel itself falls a little flat for me, since we didn't get to see them talk in that pivotal moment.
(Also, don't get me started on how Josh totally steamrolled Ari at her apartment asking her to move in with him, not reading the cues that she's uncomfortable and needs to slow down. When she runs—which is upsetting and deserving of an apology—it's frustrating to read about him expecting Ari to apologize as if he hadn't also done anything wrong.)
Trust me when I say that I hope this review was different. I was so, so hopeful about this book, and I think sometimes that works against my enjoyment of a read. I definitely loved the quick-read nature of this novel, and I am still obsessed with the cover. I can absolutely see why people love this book, and I love that for them! I will say that immediately upon finishing, I wanted to comfort watch all of Nora Ephron's films and try several of the food places referenced throughout. This book just didn't work for me, and I wrote this review to order my thoughts and explain why I might have trouble recommending it.
*This review can also be found on my Goodreads page*
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