Landline is a book about marriage. Not just any marriage; that of one Georgie McCool. And her marriage is in jeopardy. Love, laughter and landlines – can Georgie stay on top of it all?
Warning – ahead be spoilers!
I picked up Landline for two reasons; the first was because it was the new book of my favourite author, Rainbow Rowell. But the second reason, the reason that made me actually buy the book, was that it sounded truly enthralling.
Unlike Fangirl, the last RowellFic I read, Landline is a ‘grown up’ book.
(Side note i: I have no idea what to call it, because ‘adult fiction’ just sounds dirty.)
This means it deals with grown up issues, and is written slightly differently. Rowell’s style is pretty universal in her novels, but there’s just the hint of a shift to accommodate the mindset of her audiences.
I went into reading the book with high expectations, given the author. Buying it the day of release meant there were no reader reviews to go by but I wasn’t disappointed. Once again, I was completely captivated and, I have to admit, more than a little in love with Neal.
(Side note ii: I have never liked pugs, but after meeting Petunia, I may have changed my mind. Darn it, Rowell.)
The plot is easy to follow, but takes just the right amount of twists to keep everyone on the edge of their seats. I, at one point, was convinced there was going to be a time paradox. Seriously. And Heather? Didn’t see that coming at all. It’s the multi-faceted elements of the story that brings it all together.
I do, however, feel an overwhelming sense of curiosity. It isn’t a new sensation in regards to this particular author, but there are so many questions I have for my mind to settle and let me slide into reading Attachments.
What happens to Scotty? Does he write his own show? Is Seth actually gay, and in denial? Do he and Scotty get together? Does the show get finished in time? Does Georgie keep the yellow landline? Does Georgie adopt the adorable baby-pug?
I really hope that in the paperback – which I will be buying if it’s released – there are hobbit-doodles. I’m fighting the urge to attempt to draw Georgie and Neal, delightfully beautiful in both past and present, but I can’t draw in the slightest. It would be a disaster.
Although there are unanswered questions don’t doubt the awe-inspiring nature of this book. It does tie off in the most phenomenal way, in a style I’ve never encountered anywhere else, to create the perfect novel. What category it would actually fall into, I have no idea, because of the ambiguity of the landline, but there’s little dispute of the brilliance of Rowell’s latest release.
I do identify slightly with Georgie McCool, but she’s the kind of woman you can never truly match in her unique awesomeness. I, too, have a mobile phone with no functioning battery. I’m waiting for the day it simply doesn’t turn on, like Georgie’s did. I, too, prefer comfortable t-shirts to dresses. But Georgie McCool is The Woman. She’s not the cool, collected, sylphlike thing most people think of as the ideal woman. No, she’s The Woman who tries to balance her dream career and her perfect family. And yes, she often doesn’t balance the scales properly. They often tip in favour of her job, but she does really try. And she learns, boy does she learn, the importance of her little universe. Her universe with wise young Alice, her cat-daughter Noomi, and most of all, Neal.
Landline is full of symbolism, which I’ve planned to write about in an upcoming post. Whether intentional or not, the symbols in Landline are very telling, not to mention THE EASTER EGG THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN?! I know which bit to which the Easter Egg refers, but I didn’t know about the existence of such a nugget of gold until tonight, and I loaned my copy to a friend. I’ll have to wait.
I couldn’t bear to put Landline down, and I hope you feel the same.