This is the first Louise O'Neill novel that I read and I can honestly say that it lived up to the hype. I found it compelling and the writing was truly beautiful. Even though I didn't like the main character too much, I found myself wondering what was going to happen to her and if she was ever going to find a way out of the situation she was living.

I give it 3.5 stars because I wanted Sarah to realise how she had been acting with her family, her friends, at work etc and because I really wanted her to find redemption. However, the ending left me feeling a bit empty and I am still wondering if she ends up finding what she had been looking for.

A very realistic tale of obsession, life, friendships and feelings that won't disappoint the reader.

I’ve read Louise O’Neill’s previous two books and loved them, however this one surpassed these as her writing style keeps getting stronger. The plot is current, confident and at times uncomfortable as I’m sure it’s relatable to lots of people. I agree that the characters aren’t likeable, however that is intentional as it ensures the book stays with you a long time after reading it. It’s a great book and I’d recommend it to anyone. There are some mixed reviews about it, but it’s a definite 5 star read for me.

In the printed discussion with Marian Keyes at the end of the novel, Louise O'Neill states; "As my own father said about Sarah (the main character) 'we all have our damage. It's what we do with that damage that makes us who we are.' What Sarah does with her damage is...inflict further damage.
O'Neill is evidently aware of her critics, who complain that she creates unloveable characters, claiming she is not interested in making her characters likeable, only real. She says; "I often tell young women that there is a difference between being 'kind' and being 'nice'", but Sarah is neither.

Understandably vulnerable, after the early death of her mother and the torment her father experienced when trying to come to terms with that loss, she appears oblivious to the needs of any single other person- be it her closest friends, boyfriend, Father or colleagues. In fact, even when her abusive lover -for whom she sacrifices all other relationships- unexpectedly turns to her for comfort, she shuns him too.
In my opinion, what O'Neill overlooks, is the necessity for her protagonist to possess at least a glimmer of something that the reader can sympathise with. In Sarah, there is none.

If you are seeking a book where the main character struggles to have positive relationships with her friends, family and partner; a book where she fails even to find the good in herself, then read Normal People by Sally Rooney and leave Sarah to sulk self-pityingly on the shelf where she deserves to be.

Thank you to netgalley and the publisher for issuing me with a copy of this book in return for an honest opinion.

What an exhausting, hard to read novel. Sarah, our heroine, is Not Nice, much like another of O'Neill's heroines. It's a deliberate choice that makes us challenge our beliefs; Sarah is obsessed with her older lover and allows him to treat her awfully, does that justify his treatment of her? Does her unhappiness justify her treatment of her friends and family? It's a tough, uncomfortable novel, but one that everyone should definitely read.

I'm rounding down to four just because it was so very difficult; I needed breaks between readings. I would love to see this book get picked up by book clubs and discussion groups.


Receiving an ARC did not affect my review in any way.

4 - 4.5 stars

Louise O'Neill is doing something incredible for women's fiction. Her subject matter is current, her setting is familiar, her female characters are real (not very likable but, wow, can we relate to them) and she is pushing boundaries when it comes to language. O'Neill gets it. She just gets it.

I am a big fan of O'Neill's work, I feel I need to start by saying. Only Ever Yours was masterfully evoked and was such a powerful depiction of a dystopian society where women are bred for male pleasure. Asking For It, too, was just excellent. O'Neill's handling of the theme of rape culture and the notion of consent was both daring and intelligent. And so relevant, especially with the trial of Paddy Jackson in the news currently. A brave writer, O'Neill puts her voice out there, is unapologetic in her role as a strong female figure in contemporary Ireland and, as a woman in my early 30s, I truly admire her for it. Last year, I went to hear her speak in the University of Limerick, where I work, and I thought she was just wonderful.

Almost Love is no different in its stark and revealing exploration of issues that face women. In this story we meet O'Neill's most detestable protagonist yet: Sarah Fitzpatrick is approaching her late-20s. Having graduated from art college and qualified as a teacher, she is living in Dublin with her boyfriend, Oisín. Oisín has a good job, they are living rent-free in a house belonging to his parents and her immediate support network constantly encourage her to get back to her art, including Oisín’s famous artist mother, who seems to genuinely care for Sarah. Despite her apparent good fortune, Sarah is deeply unhappy. Through sections titled 'Then' we go back in time to learn about the death of her mother at a young age and the subsequent breakdown in relationship with her father, who neglected his grieving daughter when he found himself unable to cope. We also gain insight into Sarah's relationship with a man 20 years her senior, a high-profile father of one of her pupils by the name of Matthew Brennan, a relationship that is so toxic we can't help but devour all description of it.

When we first meet Brennan, we are excited for an riveting and engrossing tale of boy meets girl (or, rather, girl meets manipulative older man). Soon, however, we realise that there is something darker here. Brennan uses Sarah for his sexual pleasure while remaining completely indifferent about what pleases her. He refuses to treat her with respect or with dignity and is completely ignorant of her feelings. And while that may make you hate him and pity her, it's not that simple thanks to O'Neill's searing precision in creating modern-day monsters who we love to hate. And Sarah is just that: she is utterly hateful. She looks down her nose at the small village she came from, as well as the people in it, including her old friends who she openly insults. She is angry at her father; angry at her friends for finding happiness; angry at her family and friends for encouraging her to paint; angry at herself for not painting; angry at her boyfriend for loving her and, yet, angry at him when her constant berating of him results in his retreat from her emotionally. And here is where you might find yourself retreating from this book. I admit, being inside the mind of such a cruel, self-obsessed protagonist can be tough; I found it exhausting and draining at times. But therein lies the spark and the beauty of O'Neill's writing. She is fearless in her depiction of characters who we as readers will hate. She challenges us to see things from their perspectives, to read their ugly thoughts, and asks us if they are deserving of the treatment they receive.

As you read Almost Love, you will find yourself shouting at Sarah in your head to leave Brennan. His treatment of her is despicable, as he plays on her neediness to fulfill his own sexual and emotional comforts. When we see the texts she sends him we cringe; when we read about their sexual interactions where he has his needs met and she is treated as nothing but a physical body, we shudder; when we read page after page of her obsessing about Brennan, exhausting her friends with constant self-mutilating thoughts about how she could make him love her, we get frustrated. And when we see her abuse her relationships and treat her family and friends dismally, we get angry.

Again, what O'Neill does here is genius. It would be so easy to write a gentle, suffering protagonist who we cry for and hope she finds happiness. Then we would be told who we should root for an who we should despise. Good cop, bad cop, if you will. But with Almost Love our normal comfort of sympathising with our protagonist is challenged.

One thing that will no doubt encourage endless discussion between readers is Brennan's treatment of Sarah and Sarah's subsequent treatment of herself. There is a grey area here that is so well presented by O'Neill that it will perplex and divide audiences. Does Brennan treat Sarah so badly because he is just a complete asshole? Or does he treat her so badly because Sarah allows herself to be treated this way? Sarah is a complex character in that she doesn't seem to able to love herself and refuses to allow other people to love her, so one could argue that she is responsible for the treatment she receives, that she perpetuates it almost. What your feelings on this are, I will leave you to decide.

One thing is for sure though: this story is relatable. Whether it is watching the phone until a text comes through from a man or agonising over how we could have done things differently to change the outcome of a relationship, there is a little Sarah in all of us.

While the toxic and obsessive love affair takes centre stage, at its heart Only Ever Yours is a deep, explorative psychological portrait of a grieving young woman. It is razor sharp, brave and so utterly important. Highly recommended. And going straight onto my Top Reads of 2018 shelf.

This was so disappointing. After the groundbreaking Only Ever Yours, Asking for It was less innovative and this, her first adult offer is distinctly ordinary, It reminds me of Conversations with Friends - dull, entitled and whiny. It doesn't help that I met O'Neill a couple of years ago and she was borderline rude - something I was prepared to put aside due to the impact of OEY, but this book might just signal the end of my relationship with this author.

Sarah is an art teacher who had dreams of being an artist. Due to financial reasons, she had to take the teaching position so is quite unsatisfied with her life. She meets Matthew, a man twenty years older than her and she falls hard. Matthew doesn't treat her well but Sarah is convinced this is love. This book is an interesting examination of a relationship where an older man has all of the power and how blind someone can be to how they're treated. I read this quite quickly and thought it was an ok read and definitely an interesting viewpoint.

My problem with this book is that I just wasn’t interested in any of the characters, not least the main protagonist Sarah, whose obsessional love for an older man and her equally unsuccessful relationships with other men, simply aren’t interesting. It’s not just that she’s unlikable, which she is. Readers can always relate to unlikeable characters if they are well drawn. But Sarah is just boring and solipsistic and I couldn’t get involved in her plight. And this statement from the blurb – Love is supposed to hurt. Really? Since when? Is that what contemporary young professional women are supposed to look for in a relationship – that it hurts? A remarkably adolescent attitude, surely. Anyway, I struggled on for a bit but my level of engagement was so low I just kind of drifted away to find something more worthwhile to read.

This is not an easy book to read. Not because it is badly written, Louise O'Neill has a wonderful way with prose. It's because of the topic of the story. It's a book about self-destruction. Mistaking love for being used. While I found it hard to empathise with the main character, I often found myself uncomfortably nodding along to her feelings. For many women, there will be a recognition in Sarah's thinking.

I'll certainly be recommending it to the young adults in my library as essential reading.

Louise O’Neill is not one to shy away from difficult subjects. Just as her novel ‘Asking For It’, exploring the aftermath of rape, reminds us that everyday injustices are part of what we live with, so in ‘Almost Love’ she explores how and why family life, our education, friendships and loss make us who we are and why we can be drawn into unwise relationships.
Sarah appears to be a confident girl. She’s a well-liked Art teacher, she has a devoted partner, Oisin, and a father who likes to keep in touch. She lives in a beautiful house and enjoys a great social life. But she’s not happy. Memories of Matthew, an older man with whom she has a ‘text and sex’ relationship keep emerging, reminding her that she allowed herself to be abused, that she persuaded herself that Matthew actually cared for her, and that she thought she loved him. Sarah lives in a troubling half-light, appalled that she allowed herself to be used and desperate to see him again.
The novel moves between her present with Oisin and her past with Matthew. The different time frames are constructed subtly, rather as a shift in one’s thoughts and whilst, in summary, the plot might seem to be a run of the mill ‘loved and lost’ novel, it is far from being so.
Louise O’Neill is primarily interested in how the characters’ psychologies affect events and vice versa. She bravely creates a pretty unlikeable victim: Sarah can be cruel and selfish. She treats her friends appallingly; she is angry with her father but cannot tell him why; she is cavalier about her work. And all of this happens because she is in thrall to Matthew, waiting for his next text to summon her to their seedy hotel room.
Yet over the course of the narrative we do understand why she is as she is. The author constructs the character layer by layer so that we appreciate why she is unsupportive, why she is demanding, why she is critical. She needs to feel loved but, perversely, chooses the wrong man, perhaps because sub-consciously she believes she is undeserving. In the end, we root for her recovery, knowing that the hurt that has been done to her will take a long time to fade and remembering that she has been equally unkind to those who really love her.
My thanks to NetGalley and Quercus for a copy of this novel in exchange for a fair review.

1.5/2 stars

This story did not go where I thought was going to go - the synopsis made me think that is was going to be about an abusive relationship, but It is really about unrequited love.

I did not like this book at all - the authors writing is the only thing I think I liked about this book. It's just that, if I don't like the main character, then I won't be able to connect or stay interested in the story. And the main character, Sarah, is a bitch. She's an awful person to everybody in her life, including her dad and her boyfriend, who loves her so much, but she treats him like shit on her shoe. It frustrated me to no end that nobody really called her out on it.
And then shes off crying wolf because she wants to have an official relationship with Matthew, but the only relationship he wants is friends with benefits, so the whole book switches between Sarah being a cow to everyone and then crying and complaining that Matthew doesn't love her, and I don't have the patience to read about someone like that.

Thank you, next.

The main character in this book, Sarah, is hard to warm to. She is the bad parts so many of us have experienced at one time or another, needy, obsessive, self-centred. You won't like her. But she is honest and she is raw and she will probably remind almost everyone of how they have felt at some point in a relationship when you give so much of yourself and the other person doesn't want you back. Sarah ruins things for herself and let's the poison of her sadness and insecurity seep into all areas of her life, affecting everything it touches.

Did I love this book? I'm not sure. Will it stay with me? Most definitely. This book is what Louise O'Neill does best - dark, challenging, and thought provoking.

Characters
Sarah isn’t a likeable character, in the sense that she represents those parts of myself I don’t like. She is incredibly, heart breakingly relatable, and anyone who disagrees has never been told by a friend that they are being selfish.
It’s an incredibly raw insight that Sarah has. It’s grounded, fueled by pain and unapologetic. Even when Sarah convinces herself of things that will come to pass with her relationship with Matthew, there’s part of her that knows that she is kidding herself.
While I didn’t like Sarah I'm aware that what I don't like is part of the situation she's in, so I loved her as I would a friend. I’d be there for her and help her through her pain… If she’d let me.
Matthew on the other hand is almost a shadow character; we don’t get to know much about him. This gives this character a two-fold purpose; it represents the shallowness of his intentions with Sarah, but more importantly, Matthew is a symbol for anyone who has been treated in this way and the wonderful thing about this novel; I no longer feel alone in it.
Plot
The narrative is this wonderful non-linear exploration of Sarah's life with, and after Matthew. It gives a real sense of PTSD from the almost sociopathic relationship Sarah found herself in.
The resolution won't a satisfying end for some people, but believe me, it's so very real that it will haunt you for days after you finish the book. It's not the ending anyone would want, especially Sarah. But as a reader, we have to remember, it's not the end. It's just the conclusion of this part of Sarah's journey.
The Writing
Louise O'Neill doesn't give us the books we want, she never has. O'Neill gives us the stories we need, and she does it so well that you will almost forget that the subjects in which she writes about would feel like a chore under anyone else's penmanship.
With Almost Love, O'Neill gives us a strong voice that struggles to keep to social expectations and provides us with a look into a world some of us would never venture into without detracting from the narrative.
Its a wonderful third novel from the talented writer and while I will always wait impatiently for her next offering; I can't deny that they are always worth that painful wait.