Emily Henry Did Me Dirty, But I Liked It
Emily Henry did me dirty. And she owes me the cost of a therapy session.
Actually, maybe I can bill it to my boss, since it was for my work bookclub that I picked up Henry’s Funny Story in the first place. I’m generally not into romance novels, but I’ll take a free book any day of the week. That and I was in need of a fresh, light-hearted story; something that would make life feel a little less heavy. From what I could tell by the book jacket, Funny Story was exactly what I needed.
So there I was trying to enjoy a fun summer read that would restore my faith in what’s good in the world when all of a sudden I’m hit with a main character who:
Was raised by a single mother, who’s job resulted in them moving around a lot and our dear protagonist developing abandonment wounds and a coping strategy that essentially boils down to, “there’s no point getting close to anyone because they will just leave anyways.”
Grew up with an absentee father, leaving her to believe that she is unloveable and unworthy.
I imagine this is what a surprise intervention feels like. I kept thinking to myself, “am I being Punk’d? How did Emily Henry get ahold of my journal?” Honest to Goddess if there was ever a time I felt like I was living in some Truman Show-esque reality, this was it. That and when staring out onto the ocean for hours on a sunny day, watching the waves gently roll in. But I digress. When I tell you I was violently thrown into a trauma spiral while reading this book, I mean I was violently thrown.
Perhaps antithetically, this is exactly what I mean when I say that books have the potential to heal. Funny Story offered me a mirror—a new perspective on my own pain. Watching the protagonist (Daphne) work her way through her trauma and unhealthy coping mechanisms helped me see my own in a new light. Witnessing her journey, her growth through the pain, showed me what was possible; it showed me a new reality for myself. Was I ever fucking grateful I serendipitously had a therapy session booked the following day.
Yes, I read this book in one day. I could not put it down! The story was good and the characters were well written—the one’s who are meant to be likeable were likeable, the one’s we are meant to hate, we hate. The story line was predictable in a pleasant way, without feeling too much like a book I had read a million times before. I mean, it’s not groundbreaking or re-inventing the wheel, but unlike many other romance novels I’ve read where the dialogue is shoddy and it feels like the story exists only to get to the next sex scene, Funny Story actually had me invested in the characters and their story.
In truth, the real reason I couldn’t put it down though was because I needed to know how Daphne’s story ended. I need to know how she healed her trauma. How did she get out of her own way enough to allow herself to be seen, witnessed, and loved by other people? How did she overcome her fear of abandonment in order to make new friends and fall in love again? Would she ever stand up to her Dad? I needed to know her secrets so I could maybe, just maybe, apply them to my own life.
It would be a stretch to say that Funny Story healed my decades old trauma, but I can tell you that it got me talking about things I’ve avoided for a very long time. My therapist should send Emily Henry a thank you note for the vacation I’m about to pay for.
Anyways here’s my honest review about Funny Story:
Was the book a delightful read? Absolutely.
Did I enjoy the story? I couldn’t put the book down.
Were the sex scenes cringe? No, they were actually pretty hot.
Did she trigger ALL the trauma and leave me distraught? Yeah, yeah she did. But honestly, I’m kinda grateful.
Emily Henry might have done me dirty with this book, but I can also say that I enjoyed it so much I ordered every single other book she has written. Maybe I’m a masochistic with a kink for emotional pain, but Emily Henry just got a new fan.
