CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE $5.00If you're the person who wrote the synopsis of Hidden Bodies on the book jacket, then consider yourself one of the lucky few who didn't actually read this novel by Caroline Kepnes, the follow-up to the darkly sexual You. Be thankful that you side-stepped this filthy poor excuse for a story (but still got paid).
The book jacket says that Joe Goldberg, Serial Stalker and Accidental Serial Killer, moves to Los Angeles for a fresh start, and to find love, but can't stop looking over his shoulder because "hidden bodies never stay hidden," when - in fact - Joe does not move to LA for a fresh start, he is most definitely not looking for love, and hidden bodies aren't actually a nuisance to Joe until the second-to-last chapter. This book - which is coated in a thin layer of ick - is a big fuck-you to Hollywood and everyone in the industry. It's a running list of rejected screenplays, and, yet, is somehow a tale of wildest dreams coming true, and it's the most unexpected representation of blatant sexism, Kepnes unabashedly portraying every male character as a simple-minded, blow-job obsessed, robot, including our hero, Joe. I'm not going to tell you the synopsis, and if you've watched the second season of You on Netflix, it's not that either.
The beginning is as you'd expect for the sequel to You - erotic and sinisterly sexy - but quickly turns dirty, raunchy, and just plain gross. As you power through the filth, and presumably shower several times, Joe is bitter, angry, and crass. OG Joe was our hero stalker, protecting Beck from Benji and Peach and herself, but LA Joe is on the hunt for revenge; a hunt for "Supercunts," the use of this word a little too prolific for my taste, but ultimately getting distracted by feeling compelled to murder everyone who irritates him. I've read trashy, grocery-store pseudo-romance novels, and I've watched porn, but this book is just foul; absolute garbage.
The only redeeming qualities of this book, if you can call them that, is that Joe has remarkably good luck and a remarkably fulfilling sex-life in spite of his penchant for killing people; he's moved on from simple stalking. And I agree with his sentiments about LA: it's claustrophobic, dirty, expensive, you spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about parking, you experience three different seasons in one day - mild spring in the morning, intense humidity in late morning, desert-like heat for the afternoon, and freezing nights - and although everything is literally leaning up against everything else, everyone drives everywhere even though everyone is worried about parking. Wow, I sounded like Joe there for a minute. But while a lot seems to happen to Joe, nothing actually happens; it's just the wanderings and bitter observations of a bitter man; hundreds of pages of Joe's melodramatic, narcissistic, bitching and moaning. I sped through it because, like bad sex, I was waiting for something interesting to happen, and when I eventually realized that that was never going to happen, I just wanted it to be over so I could move on to a good book, which is a true story involving the Holocaust, if that tells you anything about how much I enjoyed Hidden Bodies. ⭐/5 on my goodreads profile, and that's being generous. Will I continue to follow Joe's journey in You Love Me? Most likely no.
No comments:
Post a Comment