If you haven’t already read ONE DAY – please be aware that this blog post is one dirty great big #spoiler – you’ve been warned.
I heard that One Day by David Nicholls was meant to be a great romantic novel.
It had all the right components, ’2 people, 20 years, one day’ – bit of bad timing, separation, both each wanting the other, not brave enough to confront it, ending up with other people – but would they, could they end up together? It was all there. It had promise.
I like a bit of romance. Don’t usually read romantic novels as a rule but secretly I’m a sucker for romantic nonsense. I adored the ‘staring intensely’ in Twilight, all that gazing into each other’s eyes *sigh*.
I actually bought this book for my stepmum, who has read it and now given it to me to read. I probably would never have bought it to read myself.
So I geared myself up for a soul searching read that would sweep me off my feet in a flurry of unrequited love, steamy moments, aching hearts and pent up emotions. Fully expecting a book so drenched in perfect romance that I would look at my own relationship and say ‘meh’.
Having finished the book I am cross. Yes, cross. Romantic my arse. I waded through the first few chapters, they were the build up, the bits where the couple ‘missed’ each other. The girl clearly adored the boy. The boy was a bit arrogant, a serial shagger who invested too much time and money into women, wine and coke.
The girl had a ‘safe’ but unsatisfactory relationship with someone else.
The boy ended up marrying someone and having a baby.
All the while they kept in touch – yet never quite actually acknowledged that they wanted each other. WHY?!
There was a glimmer of hope at one point where the boy did actually acknowledge that it ‘had always been the girl, always had, always would be’ but by the time that came I was already a bit miffed at quite how long it had taken him to realise – and that he’d only realised it once his tv career had faded, he’d stuffed up a million other relationships and got a failed marriage under his belt.
But, just to add insult to injury, when they do finally get it together. They can’t conceive which puts a strain on their relationship.
And then, ready for this?
Yes, she dies, leaving him a mess at age 40 something.
Where is the bloody message in that?!
I did however think it was well written – maybe it was my expectation of the book that was at fault rather than the book itself?
Life’s too short huh.