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ohmynameiskaylee's Reviews > The Breakup Tour
The Breakup Tour
by
by
playlist 🎧: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vF...
The Breakup Tour is a captivatingly written romance with prose too elegant to deny…I hated it.
The caliber of writing is far too sophisticated to argue, but poignantly so. Co-authors Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka are the dream team, their styles complimenting each other seamlessly. However, my thoughts wander to what they could achieve if they were to broaden their literary horizons. Their writing has too much depth to exist merely within contemporary romance. I want to see them soar as they test their strengths in the world of fantasy or even just a more tragically challenged romance. The lyricism in this novel was awkward, out of place, almost. The endless metaphors were daunting to the point that I was skimming potentially some of the most profound epiphanies. I would love to see them take on a story with a deeper thematic message. In this day and age, maybe they should dabble around in the dystopian genre. I say this all not to discredit their publications, but rather to point out that they harbor so much potential, and where they currently reside isn’t allowing readers to unabashedly appreciate the quality of their work.
I will say, this was very much Taylor Swift inspired, the underlying themes proving as much. In the age of the Eras tour and Swift’s dominating presence in every industry, I was worried that it would come across as selfish capitalism on the authors’ end, but it was almost endearing. *Note: notice how I do not deny this statement…*
I say almost because of our female protagonist, Riley. Where do I even begin? She was indeed, as she feared, difficult to love. Much to her dismay, I also did end up resenting her. For most of the story, I could love her to a fault. I could acknowledge her characteristics were just the result of living a dream not many could achieve. They left her in a bubble none of us could pop. But as we progressed, it was clear that Riley’s tendencies bordered the line between self-absorbed and narcissism. Bless sweet little Max’s heart because I wouldn’t be caught within ten feet of a romantic relationship with Ms. Wynn. All of that to say, the theme of said novel is supposed to revolve around breaking these stereotypes surrounding women and their art. Instead, it did the opposite. It pained me to come to this conclusion, feeling a betrayal of my feminist ways, but it needs to be said. It breached into the territory of mockery.
Max, our leading male protagonist, was bland. I wanted to love him, but truly, the contentment between myself and his character was purely because he was the lesser of the two evils. While I will defend this man to Riley any day of the week, between you and me, he was a little weak. She might’ve been onto something when she called out his lack of commitment. Every time he spoke, it was just crickets. That man needs to stand up. Please speak your truth, king.
In the grand scheme of it, all Max did was sacrifice. He tried living her life whereas she never even attempted to try on his. There was no compromise on Riley’s end and as the old saying goes, it takes two to tango. I can confidently say that this is one marriage that will contribute to the increasing divorce rate in America. Stat. ASAP. That man was served no justice. It completely baffles me that the audience is supposed to believe that these two could last after not once, in their decade of romance, or lack there of, did they try to sustain any sort of relationship, romantic or otherwise. These two couldn’t do long distance if it was a block apart.
There was simply no chemistry between the two of them. Not an ounce of desire. There was palpable emotion, it just ended up being hatred, the opposite of what I’m searching for in a romance novel. I wasn’t rooting for the two of them. I was actually actively rooting against them. Bold take, but I’m starting to think we need to stigmatize smut again. There was no need for it in this particular narrative. It contributed nothing to the story outside of word count.
Even amongst my critiques, there is still an underlying appreciation for their dedication. They gave us what so many other rockstar romances lack. We got the inside scoop. We weren’t a part of the audience, oh no. We were so much more. Like, the next time Max bails on a performance, put me in coach! We were immersed in a world of spotlights and setlists from the get-go.
As an avid Taylor Jenkins Reid lover (I know…call it the Taylor effect), this was making me reminisce, playing similar tunes to Daisy Jones and the Six and its sister novel The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.
While it may be time for me to part ways with this duo, I do not doubt that there’s a niche audience just waiting to devour this book. On that note, the more I, personally, think about this book, the more I hate it. So...cheers I guess.
Thank you to Berkley Romance for so kindly providing me with an ARC. All thoughts are my own and are in no way influenced by early access to this title.
The Breakup Tour is a captivatingly written romance with prose too elegant to deny…I hated it.
The caliber of writing is far too sophisticated to argue, but poignantly so. Co-authors Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka are the dream team, their styles complimenting each other seamlessly. However, my thoughts wander to what they could achieve if they were to broaden their literary horizons. Their writing has too much depth to exist merely within contemporary romance. I want to see them soar as they test their strengths in the world of fantasy or even just a more tragically challenged romance. The lyricism in this novel was awkward, out of place, almost. The endless metaphors were daunting to the point that I was skimming potentially some of the most profound epiphanies. I would love to see them take on a story with a deeper thematic message. In this day and age, maybe they should dabble around in the dystopian genre. I say this all not to discredit their publications, but rather to point out that they harbor so much potential, and where they currently reside isn’t allowing readers to unabashedly appreciate the quality of their work.
I will say, this was very much Taylor Swift inspired, the underlying themes proving as much. In the age of the Eras tour and Swift’s dominating presence in every industry, I was worried that it would come across as selfish capitalism on the authors’ end, but it was almost endearing. *Note: notice how I do not deny this statement…*
I say almost because of our female protagonist, Riley. Where do I even begin? She was indeed, as she feared, difficult to love. Much to her dismay, I also did end up resenting her. For most of the story, I could love her to a fault. I could acknowledge her characteristics were just the result of living a dream not many could achieve. They left her in a bubble none of us could pop. But as we progressed, it was clear that Riley’s tendencies bordered the line between self-absorbed and narcissism. Bless sweet little Max’s heart because I wouldn’t be caught within ten feet of a romantic relationship with Ms. Wynn. All of that to say, the theme of said novel is supposed to revolve around breaking these stereotypes surrounding women and their art. Instead, it did the opposite. It pained me to come to this conclusion, feeling a betrayal of my feminist ways, but it needs to be said. It breached into the territory of mockery.
Max, our leading male protagonist, was bland. I wanted to love him, but truly, the contentment between myself and his character was purely because he was the lesser of the two evils. While I will defend this man to Riley any day of the week, between you and me, he was a little weak. She might’ve been onto something when she called out his lack of commitment. Every time he spoke, it was just crickets. That man needs to stand up. Please speak your truth, king.
In the grand scheme of it, all Max did was sacrifice. He tried living her life whereas she never even attempted to try on his. There was no compromise on Riley’s end and as the old saying goes, it takes two to tango. I can confidently say that this is one marriage that will contribute to the increasing divorce rate in America. Stat. ASAP. That man was served no justice. It completely baffles me that the audience is supposed to believe that these two could last after not once, in their decade of romance, or lack there of, did they try to sustain any sort of relationship, romantic or otherwise. These two couldn’t do long distance if it was a block apart.
There was simply no chemistry between the two of them. Not an ounce of desire. There was palpable emotion, it just ended up being hatred, the opposite of what I’m searching for in a romance novel. I wasn’t rooting for the two of them. I was actually actively rooting against them. Bold take, but I’m starting to think we need to stigmatize smut again. There was no need for it in this particular narrative. It contributed nothing to the story outside of word count.
Even amongst my critiques, there is still an underlying appreciation for their dedication. They gave us what so many other rockstar romances lack. We got the inside scoop. We weren’t a part of the audience, oh no. We were so much more. Like, the next time Max bails on a performance, put me in coach! We were immersed in a world of spotlights and setlists from the get-go.
As an avid Taylor Jenkins Reid lover (I know…call it the Taylor effect), this was making me reminisce, playing similar tunes to Daisy Jones and the Six and its sister novel The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.
While it may be time for me to part ways with this duo, I do not doubt that there’s a niche audience just waiting to devour this book. On that note, the more I, personally, think about this book, the more I hate it. So...cheers I guess.
Thank you to Berkley Romance for so kindly providing me with an ARC. All thoughts are my own and are in no way influenced by early access to this title.
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