Review of November 9 by Colleen Hoover: A Disheartening Experience
I picked up Colleen Hoover’s November 9 with eager anticipation, driven by the buzz surrounding it and the praise from fans of contemporary romance. Hoover’s knack for crafting emotional narratives had resonated with me in the past, but little did I know that this latest journey would lead me down a disheartening path.
Right from the start, I encountered a series of moments that made my heart sink, leaving me questioning Hoover’s portrayal of love and relationships. The novel begins with Ben—the male protagonist—exhibiting behaviors that raise immediate red flags. With lines such as, “I’ve never wanted to use physical force on a girl before, but I want to push her to the ground,” I felt an overwhelming sense of discomfort. How can we romanticize a character who exhibits such entitlement and aggression?
The female protagonist, Fallon, struck me as bland and overwhelmingly insecure, which heightened my frustration with her immediate connection to Ben. Their dynamic felt more like an exercise in emotional manipulation than a sweet romance. I found myself disheartened as Ben’s so-called "savior complex" unfolded—beneath a charming exterior, he objectified Fallon, reducing her to a set of insecurities and physical attributes. It was frustrating to watch his character navigate sexual tension while simultaneously failing to respect her boundaries.
As I skimmed through the pages, I was aghast at how often Ben trivializes serious themes like trauma and body image. For example, he contemplates Fallon’s scars as a means of sexualizing her past rather than recognizing her strength. It left me reeling—how could anyone perceive this as romantic? Moments that should have showcased vulnerability instead served as a reminder of the toxic ideals often perpetuated within romance narratives.
What irked me further was how frequently the dialogue leaned into stereotypes, particularly regarding LGBTQ+ representation. Instead of authentic development, characters were often reduced to punchlines, which felt disheartening and problematic. Moments I wanted to find relatable felt flat, and by the time I reached the 20% mark, I found myself unable to proceed, my critical faculties overwhelming any desire to push through to the supposed plot twist.
Hoover’s writing style, while accessible, often faltered under the weight of problematic character portrayals and questionable narrative choices. I kept waiting for a redemptive arc or realization—an opportunity for characters to evolve away from their destructive patterns. Unfortunately, it never seemed to arise.
While I understand that not every reader shares my perspective, it’s hard to see how November 9 can resonate with anyone who values healthy relationships. If you’re someone who thrives on deep character exploration and love stories grounded in mutual respect, you might want to skip this novel.
In conclusion, November 9 has significantly altered my view of Hoover’s ability to write complex, healthy romance. If anything, it served as a reminder of the importance of critical thinking when consuming media that shapes our perceptions of relationships. For those seeking narratives that celebrate love as a partnership of equals, this one might leave you feeling more disillusioned than enchanted.