Laughter is a material benefit of new book
There are many reasons, our narrator Andy asserts, that it is good he is no longer with Jen. “Talked too much and too smugly about coming from a big family,” for starters, “as if it was her decision to have three siblings.”
Also: “Can’t drive (childish)”. “Talked at the cinema”. “Was too connected to dogs”. And the big one? “Ruined my life.”
In beginning Good Material by enumerating these reasons over three and a half pages, Dolly Alderton throws back to her hit 2018 memoir Everything I Know About Love, which became a BBC drama last year and set her on a path that has seen her crowned “the bard of modern day love” by Lena Dunham.
This, the Sunday Times columnist’s debut book, also began with a list: every fact she thought she knew about love as a teenager. With wry humour and relatable observations, it instantly gave you the feeling that you had stumbled upon something special. You get that same tingle of excitement in these preliminary pages of Good Material. Here is another book to be devoured, adored, underlined, and passed on (but only to the friends you know will give it back).
The novel centres on Andy, a 35-year-old averagely successful comedian. He had been with Jen, who works in insurance, for three years, 10 months and 29 days when she ended their relationship – or, as Andy puts it, “smashed my heart like a sinewy piñata” – without much explanation. Despite trying to remind himself of her flaws, he clutches at the hope that if he solves the mystery of what went wrong, he might just get her back.
In this respect, the plot is reminiscent of
Nick Hornby’s cult 1995 novel High Fidelity, which follows a record shop owner as he tries to figure out why his girlfriend left him. Good Material also has both a dash of the astuteness of Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s Fleishman Is in Trouble and the millennial humour of Monica Heisy’s Really Good, Actually, both of which explore divorce.
Which isn’t to say Alderton’s take on the breakup novel is unoriginal or not worth reading.
Good Material contains a lot that will resonate with anyone who has experienced a difficult breakup – bumping into your ex with their new partner and hoping the ground will swallow you whole; storing up the things you want to tell them – but ventures into enough other areas to have a broad appeal.
Just as she did in both her memoir and her 2020 debut novel Ghosts, Alderton explores friendships beautifully, probing the anxieties around being left behind while other friends reach milestones, and the bittersweet pain of seeing a friend’s career soar while your own is flailing.
When digging into modern day manhood, meanwhile, there is perhaps a trace of gender stereotyping – Jen’s female friends take her for a spa weekend to help her deal with the breakup, while Andy’s own blokey friends arrange a night out at the pub, followed by KFC. Yet something about it rings true.
Everything I Know About Love was such a cultural juggernaut that even after the publication of Ghosts, Alderton was viewed primarily as a non-fiction writer. I think this is where this changes for her.
Good Material showcases Alderton’s knack for rich characterisation and zippy dialogue like never before. It is also not just a shrewd portrayal of lost love, it is genuinely funny – if only more books made you laugh as much as this.