As a big fan of Louise O'Neil I was really interested to read Almost Love.

it was quite a compelling read and I sped through it in just a couple of days, but unfortunately as addicted to it as I was I can't say I really enjoyed it.

Sarah is a very unlikable character, which isn't always a huge issue but her motives of why she acts as she does is very unclear. She often relates back to her mum dying young and whilst that is pretty tragic, it doesn't really explain how she became so selfish and her obsession with Brennan seems extreme and pretty unrealistic.

I did enjoy the writing style though, with the use of Irish slang and talk of art, it is not something I often read about so it was interesting to hear about that and also the mention of race in Ireland was interesting.

Sarah should be happy; she has a loving boyfriend, a lovely house, a job she loves and the means to pursue her art. But she’s haunted by an affair with Matthew which consumed her whole life; she loved him, even though he was twenty years older than her and only ever wanted to see her in secret. She lost friends, the respect of her father and her job, all because of her obsession… so why can’t she forget him? And love is supposed to hurt, isn’t it?

I am a big fan of Louise O’Neill’s cutting feminist fiction; she’s not afraid to create dark, complicated characters and to let them hurt and fail and fuck up. Sarah is not particularly likeable, and her decisions are, at times, maddening, but as you follow along with her disastrous affair and the way it sends shockwaves through her life, you’ll find yourself hoping for the best for Sarah, anyway. I think a lot of the power of this book is in the fact that Sarah is quite unlikeable, but you can still see the ways in which unhealthy narratives about love and women have worked their way into her brain, and the ways in which Matthew abuses his power and privilege over her to get what he wants.

It’s not my favourite Louise O’Neill book - I think Only Ever Yours is burned into my soul - but she is very good at what she does, and this book is almost as addictive as the affair it depicts. Just don’t hold out too much hope for a happy ending…

I was very excited to read this book as I have heard extremely positive things about the author and her writing. This book was at times extremely difficult read, it was thought provoking and I couldn't it out of my head for hours afterwards. The main character is not particularly likeable but I honestly don't think she is meant to be. This is a very different book and not one I will forget for a long time but I did enjoy it. O'Neill is a very talented author and will undoubtedly continue to create challenging and thought provoking material.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for this ARC.

Despite this book being uncomfortable reading at times, I nonetheless found myself getting increasingly drawn into the story the more I read. The style of writing was very addictive and the way the story flips between ‘then’ and ‘now’ had me turning the pages at record speed. I couldn’t wait to find out how the story would end although I would’ve liked a bit more ‘closure’ on what happened to Matthew especially as the author so successfully made me despise him!
Sarah isn’t a particularly likeable character however this didn’t spoil my enjoyment of the book. I thought it was a very realistic portrayal of how selfish & self centred people can get when faced with an obsessively toxic relationship. This is the first book I’ve read by this author but I’ll definitely be reading more in future. I would highly recommend this book.

Thank you to NetGalley and Quercus Books for allowing me to read this book in exchange for an honest review.

There is no doubt that Louise O'Neill is a brilliant writer. In Sarah, she presents a protagonist who in many ways is a terrible person, and yet I recognised so many of her thought processes. The urge towards self-sabotage, the toxic view of what love and relationships should be, the intense but incoherent wanting – in my early twenties, I could have been Sarah. And I understand, too, the shock of going from best in class – special, the one destined for greatness – to just a reasonably talented person among other talented people. I recognise the impulse to give up rather than fail. Sarah is selfish and cruel and thoughtless. In some ways, she's still a child. But she's very real. She doesn't make for easy reading, but she makes an impact. Here's to more complicated, not-nice female characters from Louise O'Neill in future.

This book broke me, quite literally. I have rarely had such a visceral reaction to a book as I had this time and I am quite unsure how to talk about it. For this very reason, I feel the need to start this review with a disclaimer: I saw so much of myself in the main character and her experiences and behaviours that I cannot be objective about the literally merit of this book but I can say with absolutely certainty that the emotional core of this book was intense.

Told in two timelines, then and now, this book traces Sarah’s twenties. The past is told in first-person and tells of her increasingly destructive relationship to Matthew Brennan, a man many years her senior who treats her abysmally. The present is told in third person, Sarah is in a new relationship but still as ever self-hating and increasingly horrible to everybody around her. We closely follow Sarah, who is in no way an easy person to spend time with, and are always privy to her self-destructive thoughts and tendencies in a way that I found highly effective and extremely claustrophobic. Sarah is, for lack of a better term, a mess. For me the past narrative work better; the intimate first person narration made it a difficult but rewarding experience; present day did not quite hold my interest at all times but managed to show just how broken Sarah is in a way that made my heart hurt.

Louise O’Neill shines an unflinching light on why a person might stay in a toxic situation way longer than they would have ever thought beforehand. Matthew is a horribly disinterested in Sarah as a person except for brief interludes when he wants sex. The sex scenes are uncomfortable to no end, Matthew showing less than zero interest in making the experience pleasurable for Sarah who does not feel like she can tell him to stop. He belittles her and makes her feel bad for being the person she is. These scenes hit me incredibly hard: In my second and third year of uni, I dated this gorgeous, brilliant, funny Norwegian with the most beautiful accent when he spoke German with me – and who never let me forget that I am not the kind of person he wants to spend the rest of his life with (too feminist, too vegetarian, too not blond enough, too abrasive, too not feminine enough and so on) or maybe I never let him forget that he was not the person I wanted to grow old with (this might very well be true as well, relationships are rarely as one-sided as I would like to make this one seem). O’Neill captures the particular heartbreak that comes from a relationship like this incredibly well. While this made for a very difficult reading experience for me, it also impressed me to no end. I am so very glad to have read this.

So difficult to read but so very necessary. I actually cringed reading some parts as it was so raw and so so real. This book woke me up a little to stop some dysfunctional behavior myself. I absolutely loved it and recommend at 100%

Wow. I really didn't know what to expect from this, and after the first chapter I was tempted to give up. I am so, SO glad that I didn't.

What followed was a raw, well written story of all kinds of love, and I myself fell in love too. A brilliant read - highly recommended.

Almost Love

I was kindly given a review copy of this book from Netgalley in return for my views.

I requested this novel, having read Louise O’Neill’s previous books, Asking for It and Only Ever Yours. All three novels are designed to get us thinking - the main characters are very realistic and not always likeable and O’Neill comes at the storylines from a feminist perspective encouraging us to explore our own - culturally constructed - ideas of femininity, friendship and consent.

In contrast to her previous novels, which were broadly categorised as Young Adult novels, Almost Love is firmly set in the adult world. Sarah, a young Art teacher in a private school sees herself as a failed artist - not helped by her best friend Fionn’s massive success. This sense of failure permeates her entire life, and when a rich and powerful parent of one of her students shows an interest in her, she grabs it with both hands.

What follows is Sarah’s idea of a love story. She does her absolute utmost to keep Matthew happy, assuming that what will happen is her own happy ending. In the meantime she is neglecting every other relationship in her life - as readers we see what she is doing to herself and others and know this happy ending will never happen.

Of course, it’s easy to see Matthew as the villain of the piece. Although Sarah is not perfect - and does some pretty horrible things to those around her - he is the one taking advantage of her. Isn’t he?

What O’Neill does cleverly in her presentation of the characters is leave us questioning our own experience of the world. In describing Sarah and Matthew’s sexual encounters she describes how unfulfilling Sarah finds it - how she has sex with Matthew when she doesn’t want to, in ways she doesn’t enjoy. In fact sex with Matthew leaves her hating herself and feeling worthless. This is an experience many women can empathise with I’m sure. We have been conditioned to believe that all that is important is to be nice and to keep everyone else happy - and Sarah shows how ultimately this is a mistake. Matthew is clear from the start that he is not interested in a relationship with her, that he doesn’t have time for anything more than sex - this is absolutely clear to us as readers throughout. However Sarah cannot see it.

The novel jumps around in time - although this is sometimes confusing, it has that uncomfortable inevitability that this narrative style allows. I believe that Asking for It had a similar structure. Essentially we know from the start that there is no happy ending from Sarah. It leaves you wanted to shake her every time she makes a terrible decision. However, O’Neill is not about making characters we like - she’s about showing us that real people make real mistakes and that we shouldn’t make assumptions about others.

This novel is a good - but uncomfortable - read.

My first Louise O’Neill book and wasn’t sure what to expect.
It’s a raw, hard look at Sarah’s current and past relationships. Sarah herself comes across as self centred, self obsessed and uses people to suit herself. When she gets caught up with Matthew, a man 20 years her senior, the tables turn and she is used and this sets her on a course of destruction. We also see her current relationship with Oisin which eventually disintegrates.
An honest and unflinching look at abusive relationships. Worth a read.

ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review

Louise O'Neill is one of those authors whose prose and style I admire immensely whilst almost universally hating their stories. So I was surprised and pleased by how addictive I found Almost Love. Whereas with The Surface Breaks and Only Ever Yours, I found the author's brand of feminism to be unnuanced and very 90s in the way that men were portrayed as the source of all evil, rather than acknowledging that the system was broken and needed rebuilding, Almost Love was far more layered.

The MC, Sarah, is dissatisfied in a teaching job having given up on her dreams if being an artist - partly out of a fear of failure and partly out of this perverse perspective that she has to win at life and if she's not winning then she won't play. Life has held no great adventure or grande passion for her. Instead if going out and making something happen, she waits for adventure to happen to her. Enter older man, Matthew Brennan. Sarah falls in love with him. She also falls in hate with him. In fact, any kind of uncontrolled descent you can have over another person, Sarah has it covered here. Suddenly there's drama and adventure and a seedy sort of glamour. Somehow she tells herself that this is right no matter how badly he treats her, because if it doesn't hurt, if it doesn't scar you, it's not really love. Here's the thing, as appalling as that sounds, it's really common amongst women especially in their teens and twenties. It's not stupidity. We're socially conditioned to turn our own wants and needs inward, to value ourselves based on how others perceive us. A romantic prospect that reflects the perceived 'truth' that we don't deserve more back at us, that tests our ability to abnegate in all situations, is toxic and addictive. It's a disturbing cycle that stimulates the risk reward part of our brains and the more the reward is withheld, the harder we try to win it. Not all cases are as extreme as Sarah's. But show me a woman who at some point hasn't waited for a romantic partner to realise that they are worth more that said partner's treatment of them reflects. And that's the huge problem. Even now, there is far too much emphasis on teaching girls to be nice, which is literally a way of saying 'appropriate' - behave in a manner appropriate to your assigned gender. Girls are taught to take up the least amount of space they can manage, to be good, to be quiet, to be ladylike (whatever the hell that actually means). To not want. All of which is a potent brew taken daily throughout childhood and girlhood, resulting in not knowing what your value is.

We should be teaching girls to value themselves first before we teach them anything else. We should be teaching them that their value is not linked to their looks or figures or pleasant manner. Or to their ability to self efface or be different (special!) compared to other girls. We should definitely be teaching girls that their worth comes from knowing that merely by existing they are enough and that male regard is not a metric to measure worth by.

And that is essentially where Sarah starts from in this book. There have been parts of her childhood that have made her double down on not valuing herself too but really this attitude was imbibed early and strengthened with age.

However, Sarah responds to all of this, to her poor relationship with her father and the way Matthew treats her, by becoming a small, self centred, embittered and egocentric person. She spreads her misery around, making friends and family and anyone who cares for her as unhappy as she is. If anyone calls her on it, it's not her fault 'because her father' or 'because Matthew'. She's utterly unlikable and yet completely compelling. Perhaps this is what O'Neill does best - she takes those parts of being raised as a girl - all the shit we think we've conquered if we're well adjusted - and reflects it back at us in an extreme form. You're not meant to like her MCs. You're meant to think 'god, am I like that at all?'

Obviously Sarah's actions cannot be excused by her childhood or by being badly treated by a man she thinks she loves (debatable since what she seems to get out of that is confirmation that she's not worth better - in short a clear goal to aspire to, at the end of which awaits a Cinderella type reward). It's clear that she's cruel and unkind and selfish and we're not meant to excuse her for that. But the book does twist her character journey around so that she seems to be reaching a place of greater wisdom by the end. Nothing is solved but she goes back and faces her fears however unwillingly.

There's a lot to unpack in this book in terms of themes. I think it's the best of the author's work. And as usual beautifully written with deep characters. Everyone has faults but it was good to see a mix of good, bad and indifferent men here too. And I do get the whole 'Fionn was too nice for her' thing. So many of us get offered a really decent partner before we can appreciate ourselves enough to believe we deserve one. Pretty sure I've used 'too nice' as a reason someone was unsuitable myself as a teen.

This isn't a love story. Don't be fooled by the title. This is messy, gritty and it doesn't have a happy ending. It is still an exceptional book.

A dark but very honest and raw book about unhealthy love, and the lasting impact and damage it can cause, Almost Love by Louise O'Neill is not always an easy read, but at the same time it is a book that I found hard to put down.
Almost Love is the story of Sarah, a frustrated artist turned teacher who falls for a powerful and charismatic older man, and when she falls, she falls hard. She loses all sense of herself and her self worth, and allows the man to use and abuse her, while her friends and family look on in disbelief and even disgust when she betrays her closest and dearest friend. Tawdry meetings in seedy hotel rooms because of the need for secrecy are enough for only so long, and when Sarah begins to ask for more she soon learns how little she really matters to the only person that matters to her.
Two years later, and a year into a new relationship with a kind, loving boyfriend, she is slowly rebuilding the damaged friendships but still craving the man who almost destroyed her, and it seems that even after all this time this unhealthy obsession might destroy it all once again.
Sarah is a really interesting and well drawn character, often unlikeable in her selfishness, but all the more believable because of it. I particularly liked the depiction of her relationship with her father who was widowed when Sarah was just ten years old, and lost himself in a bottle just when she needed him most. I think anyone who has lost their heart ( and their senses) to someone they should not have, will find something that resonates with them in this book.
I really loved the ending of the book, and thought it was perfect for both the character and the story being told.
I received a review copy from the publisher via NetGalley but this did not influence my opinion.

My biggest problem with this novel is the protagonist, Sarah. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book that has such a mean-spirited character. Sarah is that one toxic friend who treats everyone like crap and then feels offended when someone calls her out on it. Everything she did felt problematic, and I think that because we aren’t given a chance to see her redemption, the book leaves you with a bitter aftertaste.

It could be argued that the author provides us with a “realistic” character, and admittedly it was refreshing to see a character with flaws - but she never learnt? She treated people like crap when she was 24 and she still treated them like crap at 27. And whilst she was treated badly by Matthew, it isn’t an excuse to treat other people the same way - maybe an explanation, but not an excuse. She was mean, jealous, and self-righteous, and I just can’t give this book any more stars after disliking a character so thoroughly. It spoiled the story for me.

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.

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.