“Hey Emily, you would love this book,” my friend Riley told me as she shoved Holding Up The Universe by Jennifer Niven into my hands. Immediately, I was thrilled. Finally, a book that isn’t filled with romantic filth that my friend actually enjoyed enough so much she practically begged me to read.  Obviously, I took it upon myself to get through the book. Not only was I let down, but I was overly irritated. Alas, I saw it through to the end, and this is what I read.

First, let me begin by saying, this review should be read through the eyes of a girl who suffers from crippling impatience, and enjoys communicating through sarcasm. Imagine my surprise when I open the book’s cover to find that on the first page, our main character has a RARE DISORDER. Something like one in a million. What are the odds. Jack Masselin, aged 17, has a neurological disorder called Proposagnosia- BUT, its a secret. Jack is the popular guy who has this daunting secret, this disorder, where basically he can’t remember faces. Not even his mother is recognizable if he didn’t pay such intense attention to her hair, body shape, or voice. 

Now, lets be real. Here we have a unique idea, but there are some obvious holes.  How on Earth, is it possible to go SEVENTEEN years without a parent, teacher, friends, or doctor noticing something is maybe a little off.  Is this a message to all parents to just be OK when your child is staring at the little wrinkles in your face, the shape of your nose, the color of your eyes, the frame of your hair with intense confusion trying to figure out who you are? I can’t seriously be the only one reading this the whole time so aggravated.  How is he so careful since such a young age to know that ‘this is something that needs to be a secret’? Think back to when you were 4, 5, 6, 7, did you have any verbal filter literally at all? OR, did you just say the first thing that came to your mind? Odds of this kid not slipping up once are slim to none in my eyes, but I suppose its up to each reader.  I probably need a more gentle sense of imagination.  

Next, we meet Libby Strout, who is 16, and is extremely overweight. The author makes sure you know. While I’m all for the representation of all body sizes, nothing is graceful about any of this writing. I am not overweight, but I found myself offended by the way Libby was portrayed. While society places such scrutiny on overweight people (maybe not as much as previously), the author truly outdid themselves. Basically, Libby’s story is she has some big panic attack, and has to get carried out on a stretcher.  Media catches wind of the fat girl getting hauled out by multiple men on a plank that barely holds her, and suddenly headlines air that she is “America’s Fattest Teen”. Honestly, nothing was more horrifying to read. Maybe that’s what the author intended to pull from me, or maybe she’s really just fatphobic and needed a creative outlet to express her hate. I’ll let you decide. 

As I’m sure you could have guessed, if you continue reading, you’ll find the two cross paths. She discovers the ‘popular boy’ isn’t what he seems, and that the big fat ugly duckling girl, is actually capable of being a delightful person if you spend more than a glance with her.  

Believe it or not, I actually do appreciate the way chapters alternate between Libby and Jack’s perspective.  This way I can get the full picture. The way they fall for each other is cute and innocent, something I normally would enjoy. 

Nothing is more frustrating to me than the waste of good words. Clearly, Jennifer Niven is a talented writer, but I really feel that she has been pressured by this idea that vanilla doesn’t exist anymore. But believe it or not, if you are a good writer, the plain plot doesn’t ever feel all that plain. I feel like more and more we see this pattern of authors trying to top each other off with the most outrageous character traits or plot twists in order to make their stories unique, when in reality I really think it strips the text of all sophistication. To me, there is nothing more cliche than the ‘unexpected love’ story. I’ve seen it a million times now. Can we please get back to letting writers tease readers with suspense and drawn out timelines? Character’s don’t have to have a rare disorder where they can’t recognize faces, because who relates to that? Who can read that and truly put themselves in their shoes and feel the story unfold  in their head. Give me the expected- write something that gives me hope I might experience the next day at school.  I’m tired of acting like just because something is normal, its unique. Its not, because deep down underneath all the layers of ‘shock’, its all the same. “Why would he like me? He’s popular, and I’m a nerd…” Honestly cry me a river.  

Niven writes from Libby’s perspective, “What will my story be?” (Niven 46). Dear Libby, your story will be nothing more than unoriginal and transparent from the very beginning. Sincerely, Unamused.