Straight Talking (Jane Green)*

I love reading. I really do. But every so often, I come across a book that makes me wonder why the f*** it was published. So I keep on reading, hoping I can find the answer. Sometimes the problem is that I just don’t appreciate the book myself, but I can understand why other people would. Other times, I just don’t get it.

I don’t get Straight Talking.

It’s all about a girl called Tasha who sleeps around a lot. Well, her name is really Anastasia, but she’s Tasha for short. Except, the first time she tells us her nickname, she says it’s ‘Tasia, pronounced Tasha’. But from that point on it’s never Tasia, always Tasha. Okay, I would never have guessed that Tasia could be pronounced Tasha if she hadn’t told us. But she did tell us once, and as my IQ is not in single figures, I’m more than happy to read Tasia as Tasha for the rest of the book. What I am not willing is for Jane Green (or Tasha: maybe this is a character thing) to assume I’m so stupid, she needs to spell it Tasha all the way through. That’s just insulting.

I also hates the way Tasia (yes, that’s how I’m going to spell it) talks to me all the way through. Quite apart from the fact that I would rather turn bulimic than listen to her for any length of time (and I say that as a raging emetophobic), she keeps telling me what I’m thinking. NO-ONE tells me what I’m thinking. Or rather, most people learn not to do it because they don’t get it right. But as Tasia is a character in a book, I can’t say, ‘no, you’re wrong, I’m not thinking you can’t possibly fall in love after ‘only’ nine months. Of course you can! Is there a legal limit or something? Thou shalt not declare thineself in love until ten months have passed? No, there isn’t. Not that I’m saying I believe you were in love with Simon – you weren’t. I’m just saying you can’t read my mind, Tasia, so stop trying!

And don’t even get me started on the sex. At the start of the book, she seems to be averaging about one bloke per chapter – it seems to add up to several a week. I’m sure there are some perfectly nice people in the world who genuinely enjoy sex as a regular activity, and like a bit of variation where the partner is concerned. But Tasia isn’t a nice girl. She just isn’t. She treats her friends like dog poo. There’s one bit where she’s absolutely devastated and she wants her friends to come round and look after her a bit. Not unreasonable. But then she says she wants Mel and Andy (two of the members of her gang of four), but she doesn’t want the other one, Emma. Of course, I do think Emma’s much better off not hanging around with this cow who sneers at her for being rich, but I just felt, poor Emma. Isn’t she going to feel just a little bit hurt about being left out like that?

Then there’s another time when she’s called the girls together so they can make a fuss of her, and Andy says something about herself. Shock, horror, crime of the century! How DARE Andy make herself the centre of attention when they’re supposed to be talking about Tasia? Okay, yes, I do agree that Andy likes to talk about herself, and, yes, maybe it is a bit annoying sometimes. But that part was actually hilarious because Tasia is by far the worst offender in that regard.

Tasia is supposed to be insecure. At least, I’m pretty sure she is. But she keeps banging on about how beautiful and successful she is, and how she’s superior to everyone in the world. Um, not the best way to get sympathy, Tasia. Although actually, I have to say, I did start feeling some sympathy for her about halfway through. Not because poor Tasia is so insecure. Not because poor Tasia was dumped by the man she thought she loved. Certainly not because poor Tasia’s best mate has the audacity to be in love with her. My sympathy for Tasia was because she was a deluded, horrible cow, and she just had no idea. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen, and it was such a relief to remember she isn’t real.

Maybe this was all a clever ploy on Green’s part. Maybe we were supposed to see Tasia for what she was, but end up liking her for it. But I didn’t. Part of the problem is probably that I did not find Green’s writing style very readable – and this might well be a personal thing. Green would probably hate my writing (and if she is reading this, she’s probably thinking I’m the deluded, horrible cow, and unfortunately not even a fictional one). But some of her storytelling methods are just bizarre.

Large chunks of it take place in therapy. I really don’t see the point. Especially when Tasia blurts out everything to her readers anyway. Louise, the therapist, has one of the loveliest names in the world, but she doesn’t seem to be very good at her job. The idea of making therapy sessions into an important part of the story is an interesting one, but, if the therapist is doing his or her job right, it’s almost always going to be an impersonal relationship: not someone the character or the reader can make any real connection to. If there is going to be something deeper than usual between them, we need to see it in their interactions. It has to be clear that the therapist, as a real character, is affected by their relationship in some way. An impersonal sounding board might be very helpful for people in real life, but it falls a bit flat in a story. If a character is going to come to some pretty huge revelations, it’s best if there’s an element of drama about it. A person who sits there calmly and asks questions isn’t really dramatic. And once you’ve sat through a certain amount of therapy sessions where nothing has really happened, it just gets boring.