Reviews tagging 'Suicidal thoughts'

בולי קינג by Andi Jaxon

2 reviews

queen21's review against another edition

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dark emotional hopeful sad tense medium-paced

3.5

Content Warnings

akramer's review against another edition

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dark tense medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? No
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

1.75

TW (for both novel and review): rape*, violence, abuse, homophobia (not of the narrative but in the narrative), suicidal ideation.

* some might call what happens in the novel as non-con and dub-con (there are instances of both), but I don’t subscribe to these when they are not explicitly discussed by the characters beforehand. Also, at least one scene is pure rape, and you cannot call it otherwise.

WARNING! This review contains spoilers and foul language. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis:

It’s senior year, and Jonah Cohen just moved with his family into nowhere, Kentucky. He’s the new kid, he’s the preacher’s son, and he’s gay. On the first day of school he runs into, literally, Roman King.

Roman King is the, well, king of the school. He’s the star quarterback in a town all about football and Jesus, and he’s the son of the richest person in town who’s also the main job provider. So Roman can do anything he wants and get away scot-free. Almost anything.

Because Roman is attracted to Jonah. But his dad is also a mean, abusive drunk. And the town is bigotted. Besides, he is all confused about his feelings towards “Bible Boy.” So he does what he knows best, intimidate.

Jonah cannot keep away from the guy that abuses him all the time. He’s tormented by his attraction because he was taught all his life that it was wrong and he might lose his family over it.

But their attraction is too strong to ignore.

Review:

In short: No, just no. Instead of a sensitive story, with an arc of redemption of the town bully, we get a perpetuation of abuse masked as romance. Instead of dealing with the questions of how to be who we are against the places we grew up in, we get staccatoed scenes, with no establishment for why people are who they are and how we got from point A to point 947. There are some poignant and touching moments, but they are so few, I can count them on one hand. All in all, this novel missed big time, for me.

Full review:

I hate him, but I have a feeling before the end of the year, I’m going to fall in love with him. I’m not sure why. He’s given me no reason to think otherwise, but there’s something about him that calls to me. I hate him for that too.

This book had potential. The story of the bully and the bullied is delicate, but in the right hands, it can be a poignant piece about what’s between the things we’re thought and the things we are, about how to survive in an environment that pushes a person into very narrow roles, how to rise out of the darkness of bigotry and stand up to it. It can be a story of redemption, of forgiveness, or rehabilitation of the town bully into a paragon of equality. But. no. All the nuances, all the sensitivity, all the light that could have been in such a tale is twisted into dark, violent, rough strokes for the sake of, what, porn?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for dark, ambiguous characters. Characters you love to hate and hate to love. But this wasn’t it. Roman King is a product of his upbringing. He never grows out of it. His volatile, sadistic behavior is not “ooh, sexy darkness, hello!” Instead, the relationship depicted belongs to the long tradition of writing abuse and calling it romance.

Refusing to look away from him, I won’t let him hide from this. He has to face what he’s doing to me. If I’m his victim, he will face the monstrosity of his actions.

Multiple times, we read Roman raping Jonah on the page. The author doesn’t call it that, the characters don’t call it that, and I’m sure many readers don’t call it that. But it is. Roman shoving his cock down Jonah’s throat in front of the rest of the football team is not a way to save them both. (Also, by the way, it is an awesome way to prove to them you’re not gay *eyeroll*). Having poor Jonah later narrate that Roman “may have been the one to push himself on me, but he’s just as broken by it. He’s not a monster. Not really.” And forgiving at the first mention of “sorry” does not make it okay. And this is only one of the instances where Roman forces himself on Jonah.

Even when they are alone together, supposedly in safe spaces, Roman forces himself. On purpose he hurts Jonah, entering him with little to no preparation, and even going in almost completely dry. Now, I’m not some prude. I love some BDSM in my, well, BDSM, but it needs to be Safe, Sane, Consensual. And it’s neither of these things, particularly, it’s not consensual. There needs to be a clear line between kink and abuse, and the novel doesn’t even come close to even discussing it. Lines like “After the brutality comes affection”; “Roman showing care makes me uncomfortable. I never know how long it’ll last or when he’ll decide it’s enough”; and “He’s not asking for permission, but forcing me to submit to his onslaught,” only read like an abused partner, not an epic love story.

Giving the tunnel one last look, I walk back to the table to clean up my trash, the dead leaves and sticks crunching under my Vans. The wind picks up, and my skin pebbles with goose bumps. There’s something here. Call it a spirit or a ghost. There was violence here, and it hasn’t left. Evil leaves a mark that rain can’t wash away.

Now, all that dysfunctional relationship could be explained beautifully. Roman grew up in a house where he was helpless against his father, helpless to help his mother. He often sports bruises, cracked ribs, and black eyes from his father. All he knows at home is violence (from his father) and acquiescence to it (from his mother). Outside, he is the ruler of the town. Everyone looks up to him. Acting out won’t get him anywhere, because he is always accepted. It makes sense that he would start this way. It makes sense he doesn’t know how to act differently, how not to bully people around him. Add to that being raised in a homophobic environment, and it’s a no brainer why he abuses the new kid who awakens thoughts and feelings in him he learned to abhor.

Jonah, on his part, grew up in the shadow of the bible and a strict preacher father. He has guilt up the wazoo. Knowing he’s gay when he were raised to believe it is a horrid sin for which he will spend eternity in hell will do a number on a person. Might even make him crave violence and being forced over the threshold. It makes sense he will keep coming back to the person who hurts him, both for punishment, but also because it is the place where he can finally live out his fantasies. I get the logic.

But neither of these - the reasonings for why Roman is the way he is and why Jonah is the way he is - exists in the text. I do not mean I need it spelled out. On the contrary, I am a big proponent of the “show, don’t tell” adage. But even the show needs to be in the story, and it is seriously absent. There is no reckoning for Roman. He doesn’t see the conflict, he is not once horrified he is turning to his father. Wait, no, I’m sorry. There is one instance in which Roman admits to “becoming more and more like [his] father” and hating it, but it’s about 70% into the book, and in response to beating out his best friend. Not only is it too-little-too-late, it is wrong. He’s always been like his father. Instead, it might have been a good moment to realize that he’s always been this way and start repenting, at least to Jonah. Yet, again, a simple “sorry” brings Jonah back to heel.

As for Jonah, we get a few glimpses into his torment, but they are so quickly forgotten - by narrative and Jonah - that it is ridiculous. Another problem is that the strictness of Jonah’s father is not built correctly. We do not feel it or see it until it is relevant to the plot. Even only allowing Mary to date Roman only with Jonah as chaperone doesn’t necessarily mean intolerant. Reading the sermon against gays came as a complete shock, and it still did not feel as portentous as it was supposed to be. We hear Jonah’s fear from his father (both earthly and heavenly) but we rarely see it. And only in a few instances we actually feel Jonah’s anguish about being religious and gay.

Dad is smiling now. The little boy inside me that’s always wanted his dad to love him brightens at the attention. That little boy loves his daddy. He just wants to make Daddy proud. “I’m proud of you.” I hate that little boy.

There are moments that are golden, that are exactly right. A moment where Roman is conflicted about craving his dad’s approval (see block quote); some poignant realizations – like Roman acknowledging he will beat up his best friend “for being who [he’s] afraid to be”; or the truly touching care of Jonah, giving his compassion without asking for anything in return, because his “compassion doesn’t come with a price.” But these are few and far in between. Mostly there are missed opportunities, conveniently appearing scenes, and confusing resolutions and character motivations..

Mary, Jonah’s younger sister, starts dating Roman (it’s a really twisted plot). After WEEKS of dating him, she finds Roman and Jonah cuddling on the bed, and her reaction is all “I know it!” Why is she okay with it? She seemed to genuinely like Roman. Even a modicum of emotion should be there, some sense of betrayal – both for being cheated on by her boyfriend with her BROTHER, and both that her brother (regarding which, at the beginning of the novel, we’re told they are best friends) not sharing something so intimate with her. Now, you might say that Jonah didn’t confide in her for his fear, but if she suspected, and was concerned about him, why had she not made steps to show her tolerance?

Even more confusing is the reaction of the football team after Roman tells them off regarding Taylor. So, the story is, Taylor is caught kissing a guy. Horror, horror, homophobic town acts homophobic and the next day the football team – lead by Roman – kicks Taylor’s ass. Eventually (i.e., after Jonah saves Taylor from committing suicide and tells Roman about it), Roman tells off his teammates, “you got a problem with Taylor, you know where the door is,” and poof! Like magic, the team is okay. There are a few more homophobic comments, but they all play nice, protecting both Taylor and Roman during the football match. In no universe is this logical. Yes, Roman is the king of the town, but actual monarchs were beheaded for less. Show some struggle, some resistance, some of that age-old bigotry. Similarly, Roman announcing during graduation, in front of the whole town, that he and Jonah are gay (A+ for non-consensually outing your boyfriend, btw), magically didn’t end in a mob lynch. There were three (yes, 3) people who had a problem with that. It just doesn’t work that way. There are stories of people being afraid to come out only to eventually realize that in their immediate environment they had no reason to fear. It happens, or, as a fantasy, it’s plausible. But Bully King does not set up itself as one of those stories. I am totally fine with Mary, Krystal (Taylor’s mom), and Roman’s mom to be okay with it, or additional characters. But the town as a whole? It’s just not the story.

He won’t let me in, won’t let me help. I’m useless and I hate it, but I refuse to give up. I’ll keep being here for him. Maybe once the funeral is over, he’ll hate-fuck me and get it out of his system.

Furthermore, there was no indication that Taylor was gay. It is not his story, and I don’t expect to “see” him out in some way, but there were no hints that this might be. Not even extreme disdain of Jonah on his part. Someone in that town who is gay and has a secret boyfriend in another town will not be all la-di-da all the time. Even one, one!, mention of Roman noticing Taylor goes off on his own, would have made the whole reveal make sense beyond its shock value. However, these instances of things cropping up at the right moment without preamble is one of the hallmarks of this novel. Anna, for example, is a character that only exists to be a contra to Roman. We meet her on the first day, moments after Roman started terrorizing Jonah, but she quickly disappears, only to pop back into the picture when Roman and Jonah stop talking for a while. She seems like a genuinely nice person, but Jonah comes out as a dick for abandoning her for no reason. She is there only when it is convenient for the narrative. Her impact is so miniscule nothing, and I mean nothing, would change if she weren’t in the novel.

The best disappearing act, however, is Jonah and Roman’s love for each other. At some point they say “I love you to one another,” but all interactions between them are abuse in school and sex (which, in most instances, is just abuse in private). There are no private conversations, no some kind of common ground other than both being gay. Nothing. Roman deciding to confide in Jonah about his abusive father comes out of nowhere. Or, if I’m being really mean, only because he wants to fuck Jonah (because he has to preface entering his house with a warning about his father). Even after the confessions, there is no substantial communication. I just don’t get it. Lust, I get. Infatuation, maybe. Love? It needs some basis.

“Jonah Cohen, I love you.” My smile is so big it hurts my cheeks, but I don’t stop. Roman jumps down from the stage, grips the back of my neck, and kisses me. Right there in front of God and everybody, he claims me.”

So, no, this novel was not for me. I think it missed such a wonderful opportunity to be a strong narrative, but instead, it is directionless, confused, and not structured well. In addition, I did not like the prose style of Andi Jaxon. There are inconsistencies in the voices and awkward sentence structures. The imagery is also simplistic, and the whole issue of the dark tunnel, both haunted and the town’s lover’s lane, is about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

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