Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
If you're just tuning in to my reviews and wondering why I, of all people, tried to read this book, here's a quick summary: I'm currently trying to broaden my horizons by reading in new genres that I never gave a shot. First I tried thrillers, and they were alright. Now I'm trying romance, and this is the first romance I think I've ever tried to read.
So let me briefly explain why I chose this one before I rip it to shreds. I wanted a book that I had no prior bias against, that was modern, and seemed to be well liked in the romance community. So I search Goodreads for romance listopias and found this book, published in 2011, was at the top of categories "Best Book Boyfriends" and "All Time Favorite Romance Novels", with over 300k reviews and a 4.15 star rating. Solid choice right? Surely representative of the current romance market, right? I sure thought so, I dived in, hoping against hope that I'd been wrong about romances all my life and I would fall in love with this book like I was thirteen years old and born with two X chromosomes.
Nope, this thing was a train wreck. First's let's introduce the characters (I use the term lightly). Meet Abby Abernathy, a slut-shaming virgin with less depth than a proton, whose only defining features are that she won't IMMEDIATELY spread her legs for Travis and that her skull is so dense that it creates a tiny black hole that blocks out all sense and logic from reaching her. Next, meet Travis "Mad Dog" Maddox, a tyrannical, disrespectful, awful person carrying so much emotional baggage that it might actually explain how he's capable of maintaining such a level of physical fitness despite lacking any form of exercise, diet, or restraint.
Their "courtship" is a long-winded roller-coaster of watching Travis completely disrespect Abby in every single way except banging her with his STD-riddled body. She says she doesn't want to eat, well too bad! He takes her anyway. She says she doesn't want to sleep in his bed? Too bad! She agrees to sleep in his bed, but only if he isn't there? Too bad! She's taking a shower and asks him to leave when he walks in? Too bad! Every time she tries to talk to a guy, Travis gets protective, scaring the other guy off and proclaiming Abby is too good for any guy, like the possessive, insecure, LOSER freakshow that he is. Honestly, guys like this are the type of people everyone is laughing at behind their backs, rolling their eyes and seeing nothing but a tiny, pathetic, nobody trapped behind too much muscle and too little sense.
But he doesn't rape her. Oh, what a gentleman! And Abby swoons.
I made it about 46% into this book before I asked my wife to read it, hoping she would tell me this book sucked and I didn't have to continue. She said it "wasn't very good." She didn't hate it, but agreed the characters were awful. So I stopped reading and asked her to recommend a romance book I should read. She suggested 50 Shades of Grey, and let me tell you, after forcefully reading near-half this Disaster of a book, I'm looking forward to it.
Yeah, that's right. I'd rather read 50 Shades than another page of this trash.
But I will say this, Abby and Travis are perfect for each other; let me explain. As terrible as Travis sounds, Abby is just as terrible of a person. She judges the crap out of other women, looking down from her imaginary high horse at every single woman that dares sleep with Travis on the first date, yet meanwhile never blaming Travis for sleeping with them. I mean, really, Abby is a full-on, raging hypocrite, who's more of a misogynist than the entire community of the Red Pill movement. She uses sex to get what she wants, she doesn't care if people walk all over her or if she walks all over other people. Her entire purpose in life seems to be using people to suit her emotional needs, whilst proclaiming she's a "good girl."
Abby, on behalf of everyone who was bestowed an ounce of sympathy at birth (not you or Travis, obviously), I want you to know I'm 100% honest when I say that you and Travis were made for each other. Disasters indeed.
Mr. Grey will see me now.
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