The stalker (almost) everyone loves and (most) people never want to meet is back in fucking cashmere and I couldn’t be more thrilled. The sick part of my brain absolutely thrives on this series. It’s an equal mix of dark and funny and pure, unadulterated hair-pulling anxiety that I couldn’t put down. I had to be physically pulled away to go do things other than read. I lost time with my fiancé for the two days it took me to read this book and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
As a matter of fact, I will. Just as soon as I finish the Netflix series one more glorious time, I’m going to go back through the books and savor each and every one.
A Spoiler-Free Synopsis
Joe Goldberg is living on an island after getting out of prison and volunteering at the local library, where he meets Mary Kay DiMarco, the librarian. Match made in heaven. They hit it off right away, but there’s complications and a few road bumps along the way that lead to a destination you’ll never see coming.
To put it into perspective, I had an idea of how it was going to end, and the real ending was so much more a punch to the face that I never asked for but really honest to God needed. Just strolling along and things are looking good and BAM I’m knocked out for a week and wake up crying wondering why my face hurts so fucking bad.
Good Joe
I love Joe. I know I just wrote up a post about the second book in the series, but I never really articulated what it is about him that makes me want to dive into his mind again and again. I skipped out on it the last time because I felt like I wasn’t going to be able to put it into words. Then I read the third installment, and I think I understand it a little bit better now.
Before, I justified it by saying that he fit into my own personal narrative of life, being that anyone is capable of anything. That’s a cop-out, though. That’s the same explanation I use to describe anyone who does bad things that are interesting to me, ie Hitler or John Wayne Gacy, or if we want to keep it fictional, Walter White or Brady Hartsfield. But as good as Breaking Bad or Mr Mercedes was, I’m not ready to dive into their world headfirst a mere few weeks after finishing their stories. I’d chalk it up to Caroline Kepnes’s writing style settling so perfectly in the mush that is my brain, but it’s not that either (though the run-on sentences still give me life).
No. I love Joe because I can see a disturbingly large amount of myself in him. Minus the murder. Definitely minus the murder. Also minus the lying. I’m the worst liar on the planet. If I am ever in a situation where I have to lie to survive, I am straight up fucked.
Hyper-Fixation Is Just Another Word for Obsession
Whenever I get stuck on something that gives me that sweet, sweet shot of serotonin, I will absorb it like a fucking sponge. Immersion isn’t enough. I’ll break it down, dissect it, wear it like a second skin, until my attention wavers and I am drawn to the next high. In the past, people have referred to me lovingly (and not so lovingly) as obsessive. I prefer the term hyper-fixated. It sounds less destructive. To me, at least.
For instance, my current hyper-fixation is the You series. I devoured the books, and I’m going to devour them again. I devoured the show not once but twice, and I still have this itch in the back of my head that says, “Just one more time.” I’ve watched an insane number of interviews on YouTube—guiltily, mind you—and have promptly deleted the search history after watching them. Why? Because people might think I’m obsessing, and obsessing is bad.
I delete my viewing history. I reread the books in private. I ignore the buzz in my brain that says, “Talk about it talk about it talk about it to everyone,” because then they will know that this dose of serotonin or dopamine or whatever it is has taken over my entire brain and they will think I’m crazy.
TL;DR – I hyper-fixate and I’m paranoid. Guess who else does that? Joe. Guess who else? Almost everyone, if they are being honest with themselves. The difference lies in the object people choose to delve deeper into. I choose fiction. My fiancé chooses cars. Joe Goldberg chooses women. The concept of relating to a stalker/murderer isn’t so scary when you break it down to its most basic form, really. I would be as bold to say that there’s a little bit of Joe in us all.
Book Joe VS Show Joe:::FIGHT
This section does not belong in this poor excuse for a book review, but I want to touch on it anyway because it’s something that absolutely fascinates me. When you talk about Joe, depending on if you are watching the Netflix series or the books, you are talking about two completely different people. Crazy, right? A show differing from the book? Taking away key details and events and completely mucking up the story one way or the other depending on your tastes?? Wow, that doesn’t happen!
Said no one. Ever.
Television cannot do what books do. The same goes for vice versa. Book Joe would not make a hit series. Show Joe wouldn’t be a NY Times Bestseller.
Here’s the casual breakdown, in my ever so humble opinion:
Book Joe:
- Charismatically creepy
- Self-important douchebag in disguise
- Lone wolf 24/7 except with typewriters
- Funny as fuck, often times unintentionally so
- Cool, calm, collected (mostly) turn that creepy vibe way the fuck up
- Borderline sociopath—if not full blown bonafidably so
- Finds happiness in what he thinks is love, but is actually control
Show Joe:
- Charming in a quiet way
- Self-importance muted and misunderstood
- Only real friends are children
- Sense of humor and jokes are random and a little cringy at times
- Mellow or awkward in interactions—there is no inbetween
- Less sociopath vibes, more innocent puppy who doesn’t know better vibes
- Thinks he wants love, but really just wants the chase
These two men are from alternate universes. They share a name. They share a face (because Penn is exactly who I imagined in my head when I was reading the book and that basically never happens). Their core beliefs are the same. They don’t think they are killers, they just so happen to get in bad situations where killing is the only way out. Book Joe just seems like he’s better at handling it than Show Joe.
But the events and the people around them are so different and have changed the man they’ve grown into. It’s phenomenal in the best of ways because it all feels so very in character for them both, and that doesn’t always happen in film adaptations. Normally, something is lost in translation in a way that makes one or the other unwatchable or (dare I say it?) unreadable. And that hasn’t happened here.
This is it. This is why I love both book and show so god damn much, because they exist in alternate universes and they still manage to make sense. You couldn’t have the book be like the show because this character that Caroline Kepnes has breathed into life wouldn’t be a man that people would root for. They tweaked what needed tweaked and added plot twists and characters to make him a more sympathetic person, because otherwise it just wouldn’t work. That’s why shows like True Blood and movies like The Dark Tower failed—shit strayed from the source material so far that it got tarnished and rusted out and decayed before viewer’s very eyes. Not because it was different than the original. Rather, because it declined into a pit of plot holes and unbelievable character motives.
The Power of Creativity
This is a little off topic from the You series and more a comment on the arts in general. The thing I love most about creative works is the community of creativity that comes after it. They always feel like a love letter to the source material in a way that’s more touching than screaming from the rooftops that in this moment in time, you enjoyed what you consumed.
A person starts out with a thing, people like the thing, so they create a thing in tribute to the thing, and other people see that and are inspired to create their own thing. The cycle continues until you have fan fiction and art projects and poetry and videos and dramatizations and crafts and clothing and cosplays and so much more. It’s so beautiful, watching other people create. It’s my favorite part of jumping on a bandwagon that’s existed before I came around. Just taking the time to absorb everything that it’s about and everything it means to those around me.
I just love seeing what other people can do. It’s my favorite.
I Love You, You Love Me
I want to rate this book a billion/10, and it’s my arbitrary rating system, so I fucking will. It is hands down my favorite in the series thus far, and I can’t wait for Caroline Kepnes to release more news on the next installment. I love watching Joe grow and learn from his mistakes and cringing right along with him when he fucks up time and time again. He is and will forever be my favorite guy I never want to meet, and I feel like if I were to meet him, we would be fast friends, and he would use that to his advantage to pin a murder on me (like Dr. Nicky) and I’d be fine with it as long as we could still idk be pen pals or something. Because I’m sick in the head and have that whole putting people on a pedestal thing. Whoops.
Let me just say that I’m glad I have the friends I do have because if I were friends with bad people I would do mental acrobatics and make excuses for them until the day I died. Being an enabler is bad for all involved to be honest.
Tell me about something creative you’ve done, Void. Myself, I have several unfinished Phantom of the Opera fanfictions lying around. They all rank somewhere between terrible and weird, but they were what got me into writing in the first place. (Erik is the real OG of stalker/murderer/hopeless romantic types.)
Manda Kay Writes 