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A review by crushcritiques
Bad Parts by Brandon McNulty
1.0
The premise of this book sounded interesting, however the execution left a lot to be desired.
None of the characters are likable whatsoever and therefore you really don’t care one way or another what happens to them, which is unfortunate because then you’re never truly invested in the stakes. The main character Ash is obnoxious, self-absorbed and entitled; unfortunately everyone seems to pander to her and make excuses for her behavior, so she learns nothing at all.
“She expected him to coddle her and tell her it was okay, but he didn't. Nor did he pat her shoulder, offer a hug, or deliver any of the other consolatory gestures she'd received through the years.”
I don’t know if the author is actually ableist or not, however this book comes across as such. There’s zero compassion in anything related to disabilities or health issues. A character with a leg injury is described walking with their cane as “stumbling like a three-legged giraffe.” While many disabled people think of their mobility aids as extensions of themselves to describe their mobility in that way is distasteful.
Then there’s a scene where another character repeatedly fondles the residual limb of another character’s missing hand out of nowhere to apparently show that it doesn’t bother them. Actual dialogue: “With his thumb he rubbed her stump. Kept rubbing. Wait, was he massaging her? It might've felt good if not for how perverted it was.” After the character asks for their arm back and gets into a slight struggle trying to free themselves, the other character starts kissing their residual limb prompting this thought, “She wanted to smack him, but she felt paralyzed.” They again clearly say no and to stop, yet the other character continues to kiss their residuum before it incredulously switches to a consensual sex scene.
Fetishizing disabled people is not how you show that you’re an ally!! Disabled people are three times as likely to be sexually assaulted than able bodied people. To have a character repeatedly say “no” and be met with “just wait a second” and a continuation of the offending behavior is making it seem like “no really just means convince me” rather than being a full sentence. It’s not okay.
Speaking of the sex scenes, they are all uncomfortable. You either have characters keeping their relationship quiet because they don’t want others to know which comes across in these instances as a racial issue, or you have that fetishized foreplay scenario that results in the most juvenilely written sex scene I’ve read in a while. “She reached down and felt him sprout within her grasp.” Sprout as a verb either relates to vegetables or things appearing suddenly in large numbers. Neither definition works in that context.
Then we have this, “Like drunken memories, their clothes vanished. Wearing nothing but their tattoos, they wrestled one another to the cold plastic floor. The chills didn't stop them. They fought to get on top of each other before she playfully beat him down with her empty wrist. He laughed, submitting to the blows.” Just…ew.
As I stated before, the premise is good even if the name of the eldritch
being that resided in the town creek is named “Snare”. You know, snare as in “something by which one is entangled, trapped, or deceived”… what could possibly go wrong with having a blatantly obvious name like that when you are offering townspeople body part exchanges?! But subtlety isn’t McNulty’s strongpoint.
Neither are metaphors and similes, as “Bad Parts” is full of ones that made me cringe. Music related similes and metaphors abound; the book even ends randomly with a lyric from The Doors.
Here are a just a few so you can get an idea of the writing:
“He lay there, a bug waiting to be squashed.”
“She sat there, a head waiting to pop.”
“With each step, the balancing act grew more demanding, like a guitar solo just beyond her skill level.”
“Snare grabbed him by the jacket and flipped him over, strength beyond strength.”
I would have been much more interested in actually reading about Snare and their previous life rather than it being solely reiterated in a few paragraphs at the end.
It seemed like it was forgotten about and randomly shoved in to tidy things up a bit.
“Beneath her, his breath floated hot in her face. She feared it might melt her, so she put her mouth over his. When she pulled her lips away, she pressed her hand to his chest. Their eyes met, and she nodded to him like she did during their shows—during those moments when she wanted to up the intensity. At first they were clumsy. Out of sync. Much like their first time onstage together, they couldn’t find their rhythm. But once they did, it was music.”
There’s so many more examples and some are much worse. I just don’t understand how an editor let it slide.
The ending is preposterous; apparently the dad doesn’t care about his son/Ash’s twin because he comments that the two most important people to him are alive.
But I mean he did try to trade his skin color without actually making it known that he wanted the color changed & not for it to be free of scars. It comes across as being black is detrimental as is being disabled and is something to be changed in order to be happy.
I honestly haven’t hated a book like this in a very long time. 1/5 stars because lower isn’t an option.
None of the characters are likable whatsoever and therefore you really don’t care one way or another what happens to them, which is unfortunate because then you’re never truly invested in the stakes. The main character Ash is obnoxious, self-absorbed and entitled; unfortunately everyone seems to pander to her and make excuses for her behavior, so she learns nothing at all.
“She expected him to coddle her and tell her it was okay, but he didn't. Nor did he pat her shoulder, offer a hug, or deliver any of the other consolatory gestures she'd received through the years.”
I don’t know if the author is actually ableist or not, however this book comes across as such. There’s zero compassion in anything related to disabilities or health issues. A character with a leg injury is described walking with their cane as “stumbling like a three-legged giraffe.” While many disabled people think of their mobility aids as extensions of themselves to describe their mobility in that way is distasteful.
Then there’s a scene where another character repeatedly fondles the residual limb of another character’s missing hand out of nowhere to apparently show that it doesn’t bother them. Actual dialogue: “With his thumb he rubbed her stump. Kept rubbing. Wait, was he massaging her? It might've felt good if not for how perverted it was.” After the character asks for their arm back and gets into a slight struggle trying to free themselves, the other character starts kissing their residual limb prompting this thought, “She wanted to smack him, but she felt paralyzed.” They again clearly say no and to stop, yet the other character continues to kiss their residuum before it incredulously switches to a consensual sex scene.
Fetishizing disabled people is not how you show that you’re an ally!! Disabled people are three times as likely to be sexually assaulted than able bodied people. To have a character repeatedly say “no” and be met with “just wait a second” and a continuation of the offending behavior is making it seem like “no really just means convince me” rather than being a full sentence. It’s not okay.
Speaking of the sex scenes, they are all uncomfortable. You either have characters keeping their relationship quiet because they don’t want others to know which comes across in these instances as a racial issue, or you have that fetishized foreplay scenario that results in the most juvenilely written sex scene I’ve read in a while. “She reached down and felt him sprout within her grasp.” Sprout as a verb either relates to vegetables or things appearing suddenly in large numbers. Neither definition works in that context.
Then we have this, “Like drunken memories, their clothes vanished. Wearing nothing but their tattoos, they wrestled one another to the cold plastic floor. The chills didn't stop them. They fought to get on top of each other before she playfully beat him down with her empty wrist. He laughed, submitting to the blows.” Just…ew.
As I stated before, the premise is good even if the name of the eldritch
being that resided in the town creek is named “Snare”. You know, snare as in “something by which one is entangled, trapped, or deceived”… what could possibly go wrong with having a blatantly obvious name like that when you are offering townspeople body part exchanges?! But subtlety isn’t McNulty’s strongpoint.
Neither are metaphors and similes, as “Bad Parts” is full of ones that made me cringe. Music related similes and metaphors abound; the book even ends randomly with a lyric from The Doors.
Here are a just a few so you can get an idea of the writing:
“He lay there, a bug waiting to be squashed.”
“She sat there, a head waiting to pop.”
“With each step, the balancing act grew more demanding, like a guitar solo just beyond her skill level.”
“Snare grabbed him by the jacket and flipped him over, strength beyond strength.”
I would have been much more interested in actually reading about Snare and their previous life rather than it being solely reiterated in a few paragraphs at the end.
It seemed like it was forgotten about and randomly shoved in to tidy things up a bit.
“Beneath her, his breath floated hot in her face. She feared it might melt her, so she put her mouth over his. When she pulled her lips away, she pressed her hand to his chest. Their eyes met, and she nodded to him like she did during their shows—during those moments when she wanted to up the intensity. At first they were clumsy. Out of sync. Much like their first time onstage together, they couldn’t find their rhythm. But once they did, it was music.”
There’s so many more examples and some are much worse. I just don’t understand how an editor let it slide.
The ending is preposterous; apparently the dad doesn’t care about his son/Ash’s twin because he comments that the two most important people to him are alive.
But I mean he did try to trade his skin color without actually making it known that he wanted the color changed & not for it to be free of scars. It comes across as being black is detrimental as is being disabled and is something to be changed in order to be happy.
I honestly haven’t hated a book like this in a very long time. 1/5 stars because lower isn’t an option.