English writer Jem Calder's debut novel, I Want You To Be Happy, reports from the frontlines of modern-day dating. His book is good – but the news is not.
A man in his mid-30s who recently broke off his engagement with his longtime girlfriend meets a young woman at a crowded London bar. He's a copywriter, she's a 23-year-old barista. Despite his intention not to talk about his breakup, he finds himself "shouting specific details directly in her ear." "Pretty intense," she yells back. He apologizes. "No-no, I like it," she yells. "It's like boarding a plane. You go baggage first."
Neither can think what to say next. After an "interpersonal silence containing all the bar-noise," they share a few drinks, their first names (Chuck and Joey), some quips about their 12 year age gap and her lack of what he calls "a real job." They end up at his luxury apartment, which is far nicer than her crowded shared flat.
In other words, Calder's characters have boarded a plane, baggage first -- with no idea where it will land. Will it lead to an actual relationship, nevermind happiness?
Calder made a splash with his first book, Reward System, a collection of six interconnected short stories about young adults linked by social media yet adrift and alienated in today's fragmented digital world. The title of one story, "Distraction from Sadness is Not the Same Thing as Happiness," could also work for this closely observed, sad-but-sympathetic novel about the cagey, jittery dance that characterizes the modern-day mating game.
Chuck and Joey are guarded and uncertain. We get to know them better than they get to know each other -- their insecurities and disappointments with themselves as well as others. Their fundamental imbalances -- age, financial, commitment levels -- lead to a wobbly connection. The discovery that they share literary aspirations (poetry for her, prose for him) and write around their day jobs opens up the potential for some sort of bond. Their nascent relationship stirs "a dormant feeling of possibility" in both of them. But a talent gap opens up an abyss. (I won't say who has more.)
Joey is hopeful, always on stand-by for texts: "A new person finding you interesting makes you feel new," she ruminates in this tight, third person narrative that alternates between the male and female perspective. Interestingly, although the author is male, the female character comes across as far more sympathetic.
Joey understands that she needs to wait before replying to texts, because responding too quickly betrays "an underlying neediness and desperation." Chuck is generally avoidant in all aspects of his life -- with alcohol as his chosen support system. It's important to both of them to convey nonchalance. Neither wants to come across as a "tryhard."
There's nothing new about this, of course: Self doubts, waiting by the phone, playing hard to get, "acting noncommittal in the hopes of gaming his desire." It's a tale as old as time, with updated electronic devices.
Both characters are addicted to instant gratification: brand name status items, cyclist-delivered meals, push notifications, Instagram scrolling, podcasts, alcohol, smoking, vaping, sex, screens. They are constantly plugged in and online, compulsively checking their media feeds. One night, trying to distract herself from "recursive worries" about her finances and future, Joey spends "twenty of her non-refundable life minutes researching the relationship timeline of an actor she liked and a musician she didn't like as much."
Calder writes with precision, channeling his generation's activities with a mix of interiority and verbs fabricated to convey the mechanical rote of their daily activities. These are people who routinely "gaze-unlocked" their phones, "V-60-ed" some coffee, and "escalatored" up to open plan spaces at work, where, lacking assigned cubicles, they "hot-desked" and then "sense-checked the work." And at the end of the day, they "cheersed" drinks.
I Want You to Be Happy would have packed more punch at novella-length. Yet readers of all generations should be able to relate to these characters' waves of disconsolate loneliness, if not how they deal with it. Older readers might recall their own anxieties about the future -- but mostly feel relief that they're no longer out there.
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