Great Big Beautiful Life’ is comfortable, yet unexpected

Emily Henry hands readers a character study with a side of lighthearted romance.

3.5

By MIRANDA HUANG
Rom-com enthusiasts can enjoy this romantic tale set on an island called Little Crescent, which sits just off the coast of Georgia. (Rawpixel)

As summer draws near, it once again becomes time to find that perfect “Beach Read.” With the release of Emily Henry’s new novel, “Great Big Beautiful Life,” rom-com enthusiasts can find just that: a lighthearted tale made stark by the humid and sandy backdrop of an island called Little Crescent, which sits just off the coast of Georgia. 

On this island, a pair of journalists compete for the same job: to write the biography of Margaret Ives, an ex-celebrity tabloid diva who is the product of generational wealth and the survivor of a short-lived marriage to a famous musician. 

Since disappearing from the public eye, Ives has remained in contact with two people, both of whom are enigmatic and slightly irrelevant at the start of the book. These senior years spent in hiding from the paparazzi change when Alice Scott and Hayden Anderson appear, ready to document Margaret’s life as she sees it, unburdened by the weight of the press’ opinions.

Told in the first person, the narrative follows how Alice, a writer for “The Scratch” and an avid follower of Ives’ deceased husband, Cosmo Sinclair, perceives Margaret’s story. As Alice conducts her interviews, she becomes immersed in Margaret’s complex personal history, learning about the trajectory of the Ives family’s wealth, the development of Margaret’s marriage and its abrupt end, and the tangled ties between Margaret and her sister. 

Amid these interviews, a growing relationship between Alice and her competitor, Hayden, develops. Initially embracing an enemies-to-lovers trope, the nature of their relationship quickly pivots into friend territory with undertones of yearning and restraint. Think grumpy-sunshine compounded with forbidden love. 

On the surface, it would appear that Henry’s new novel is nothing new — both for the author herself and the young adult romance industry as a whole. Among other conventions used, the book features witty best friends, the ancient side character who provides the protagonist with life advice, the spiky relationship arc with a major fight and make-up process, and the sugar-coated ending packed with phrases synonymous with “I love you.”

In terms of Henry’s style, the book fits comfortably into the paradigm established by her past work; the characters are editors, authors or writers with some connection to the literary realm, and each meets their love interest through work-related activities.

Yet, as readers absorb themselves in this new — and thicker — release, they will find much more than what Henry’s prior novels manage to accomplish. In addition to including the staple long-form anecdotes and charming banter, the novel deftly weaves together two disparate narratives: Margaret’s to-be biography and Alice and Hayden’s budding romance. 

At first, and arguably, throughout most of the novel, readers may question why they need to pay attention to Alice’s documentation of Margaret’s story. Given that the book is split up between Alice’s draft of the biography and her casual outings on Little Crescent, it would seem that the two plots run parallel to one another, held together by the loose thread of Hayden and Alice working against one another. Even this thread grows slack due to the little attention Hayden pays to his work throughout the book. 

In a surprising twist, Henry collapses these two ends together, toppling the last few pages of the novel with information about each character that — for lack of a better phrase — makes everything click into place. 

Although Margaret’s family tale is presented chronologically, the abrupt conclusion — and stunted sense of closure — jolts readers to attention, forcing them to grapple with an onslaught of gasps and thoughts lingering close to the lines, “How did I not see this coming?”

Also, unlike her previous novels, “Great Big Beautiful Life” felt more catered to the personal journey than to the romance between the characters, a notable shift from the status quo.

Alice’s character growth is rooted in her growing understanding of Margaret’s story — her mistakes, learned lessons and ultimate loose ends. As Margaret reveals the reason why she is left with unbridled regret over her family — a stubbornness to take action — Alice quickly turns to her own familial relationships, moving swiftly to mend a bleeding connection between her and her mother. 

Saturated with personal bruises, each character’s narrative manages to pull out cheesy life lessons and leave smears of unresolved grief behind. Yet, embedded in this tale is also a pulsating dedication to acceptance, trust and growth — a willingness to move forward and find peace despite one’s haunting past. In a whirl of personal trauma, the three characters learn and grow from one another in unexpected ways.

Overall, Henry’s new novel was both predictable and surprising, pulling from similar plots, tropes and characters while steering audiences in a direction that hovered more in a space dedicated to character development than romance. 

YA romance books are known for their predictability and enshrined tropes; these factors are what make them satisfying, reliable and comforting. Readers often turn to sappy pick-up lines and cute — but often unrealistic — acts of service to uplift their spirits and raise their standards for the “perfect” partner. 

While “Great Big Beautiful Life” fed into these conventions, it also reminded readers that romance is as much about growth — within one’s relationship and on an individual level — as it is about finding love and peace.

Maybe “Great Big Beautiful Life” is not so much of a beach read as it is a character study, but one thing can be made clear: Henry’s dedication to introducing themes of imperfection, evolution and understanding is still consistent across each of her books. 

ADVERTISEMENTS

Looking to advertise with us? Visit dailytrojan.com/ads.

© University of Southern California/Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.