Book Review: Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell
When I first heard about Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, I felt an instant connection. It seemed like a book tailor-made for someone like me—a former fanfiction writer ready to dive back into the eclectic world of fandom. Like many, I anxiously awaited a narrative that would encapsulate the incredible community and journeys we embark on through fanfiction, so my excitement was palpable. Unfortunately, my journey through Fangirl turned out to be a bit more rocky than I expected.
At its core, Fangirl follows Cath, a college freshman grappling with anxiety and her identity as a dedicated fanfiction writer. While I genuinely appreciated Rainbow Rowell’s portrayal of Cath’s struggles with mental health, particularly her anxiety about social interactions, there were significant areas where the book missed the mark. The novel presents fanfiction almost as “training wheels” for aspiring authors, suggesting that it’s a mere stepping stone to “real” writing. This assertion felt limiting. In my experience and that of countless others, fanfiction is often a vibrant hobby, not a failed attempt at producing original work, and it provides joy and connection rather than just a fallback.
Rowell’s storytelling shines in its depiction of college life—the bustling community, the bittersweet thrill of newfound independence, and the chaos of self-discovery. However, when it comes to representing fandom and fanfiction, it feels as though Rowell has overlooked the richness of the community. Cath is depicted as a popular fanfiction author, yet she seems to exist in a vacuum. The relationships with her online readers and fellow writers are barely developed, failing to capture the essence of what makes fandom so joyful and supportive.
That said, the writing style itself is engaging, featuring a warm and relatable voice that draws you in. Memorable quotes stand out, such as when Wren asks Cath, “Why are you reading that?” upon noticing she’s reading something without “a dragon or an elf on the cover.” It’s a humorous nod that resonates with many fans who have faced similar judgments.
Despite some solid character dynamics, like the endearing connections between Cath and her roommate Wren or love interest Levi, I felt that deeper exploration was often sacrificed for plot advancement or tidy resolutions. For example, Cath’s sudden journey towards writing original fiction appears as a forced necessity rather than a natural evolution of her character—one that plays into the narrative trope of needing to “grow up.”
So, who would enjoy Fangirl? If you’re a fan of coming-of-age stories that center around the trials and tribulations of college life, this book might resonate with you. However, if you are part of the fanfiction community, or if you value authentic representation of fandom, you may find yourself frustrated by gaps in the portrayal of such a rich and diverse experience.
In the end, my love for the fandom world left me yearning for more depth and authenticity in Fangirl. Although it presents relatable and emotional struggles, it ultimately simplifies the complexities of fan culture into a narrative that occasionally feels like it misses the mark. Reading this book was an introspective experience—while I appreciated the well-crafted prose, it also highlighted my desire for stories that more accurately reflect the complexities and joys of being part of a community that celebrates creativity in all its forms. Perhaps next time we can pen a love letter to fanfiction that truly captures its magic.