How to Build a Girl
by Caitlin Moran
I thought, after reading the first chapter of Caitlin Moran’s autobiographical novel, that I’d be in store for a late coming-of-age story of an immature girl who get sucked into a world of vices, then matures and learns her lesson by the end of the book. As that’s a similar premise to one of my own novels, naturally, I was very excited to read it. It’s a story that’s near and dear to my heart—but it’s not exactly the story of How to Build a Girl. After I finished the novel, I literally put it in a different room of the house so it wouldn’t infect the other books on my beloved shelf.
The first chapter is delightful, humorous, and realistically charming. The protagonist lives in a poor neighborhood, crowded by too many younger siblings in the house, a worn-down mother, and a no-good father. The father is in the music business, and Moran’s description of his attempts to sell his song while drunk is simultaneously funny, sad, realistic, and pathetic. Anyone who has had any actual experience in the music industry knows it’s not a very healthy business and if at all possible, people should avoid it. I was very surprised that the protagonist, a teen girl, chose to follow in her father’s footsteps and join the music industry, even though she saw firsthand what an unreliable business it was. Still, I thought, that was part of her downfall that would lead to the inevitable “older and wiser” ending.
I make it a rule to never give spoilers in my reviews, so I’m going to tread on very thin ice in my description of why I hated this book. The traditional format of the genre is somewhat followed, so I don’t consider it a spoiler to tell that the lead girl does fall down a vice-filled well and is expected to learn her lesson in the end. However, the character is written in such a way that I found her wholly unlikable. She’s the reason the music industry continues to be filled with less-than-desirable people. She drinks herself to oblivion, is obsessed with sex, continually insinuates herself in the company of a rock star who very clearly wants nothing to do with her, and through it all, has undeserved attitude about her self-worth. I thought it was clear she was not a young woman of quality, but Moran disagreed. The biggest problem with her, Moran thought, was that she didn’t love herself enough, a lacking I never saw. Whatever lessons she might learn in the end—I’m trying to refrain from spoiling them—are not satisfactory. If you’re expecting her to mature into a young lady with morals, responsibility, perspective, and a good head on her shoulders, there’s a strong likelihood you’ll wind up as disappointed as I was.
The first chapter is delightful, humorous, and realistically charming. The protagonist lives in a poor neighborhood, crowded by too many younger siblings in the house, a worn-down mother, and a no-good father. The father is in the music business, and Moran’s description of his attempts to sell his song while drunk is simultaneously funny, sad, realistic, and pathetic. Anyone who has had any actual experience in the music industry knows it’s not a very healthy business and if at all possible, people should avoid it. I was very surprised that the protagonist, a teen girl, chose to follow in her father’s footsteps and join the music industry, even though she saw firsthand what an unreliable business it was. Still, I thought, that was part of her downfall that would lead to the inevitable “older and wiser” ending.
I make it a rule to never give spoilers in my reviews, so I’m going to tread on very thin ice in my description of why I hated this book. The traditional format of the genre is somewhat followed, so I don’t consider it a spoiler to tell that the lead girl does fall down a vice-filled well and is expected to learn her lesson in the end. However, the character is written in such a way that I found her wholly unlikable. She’s the reason the music industry continues to be filled with less-than-desirable people. She drinks herself to oblivion, is obsessed with sex, continually insinuates herself in the company of a rock star who very clearly wants nothing to do with her, and through it all, has undeserved attitude about her self-worth. I thought it was clear she was not a young woman of quality, but Moran disagreed. The biggest problem with her, Moran thought, was that she didn’t love herself enough, a lacking I never saw. Whatever lessons she might learn in the end—I’m trying to refrain from spoiling them—are not satisfactory. If you’re expecting her to mature into a young lady with morals, responsibility, perspective, and a good head on her shoulders, there’s a strong likelihood you’ll wind up as disappointed as I was.