Review - Rouge

In December, time ceases to exist and we float in the seemingly endless, crisis-fueled abyss that lies between 2023 and 2024. Well, I do at least.

When I think about the fact that, in less than a month, 2016 will have been eight years ago, I feel like Alice falling down, down, down ... or up?

As if December wasn't already weird enough, I decided to make it the month I read Rouge by Mona Awad.

This book feels like December, and like being Alice - you're not sure which way is up, and everything is unsettling. But it's unsettling in the best way possible.

Judging a book by its cover

A red rose on a black cover? Say no more. I'm entranced. Take my money. You're coming home with me, Rouge.

My only complaint is that, on black book covers like this one, fingerprint smudges show up as clearly as they do on a laptop screen in the sun.

My intertextuality theory

If I were to describe a narcissistic character, their excessive skin care routine, and their fixation on Tom Cruise, would anyone come to mind?

Hopefully you said Patrick Bateman, a character from the novel (and film) American Psycho.

In Brett Easton Ellis' American Psycho, Patrick Bateman indeed fixates on his skin care routine and Tom Cruise as part of the author's critique on consumerist culture.

So, how does this relate to Rouge? Well, it's protagonist also fixates on skin care and interacts with a strange man who she believes to be Tom Cruise.

This has got to be an intentional act of intertextuality by Awad.

Perhaps she is aiming for a more woman-central take on some of Ellis' ideas ... whatever her reason, I love it.

Reasons to love this book

1. It is not all darkness (no spoilers)

At the start of the book, you meet Belle, a gloomy, self-obsessed woman who is fixated on skin care and hating her recently deceased mother.

I can see why this opening would make readers a bit apprehensive. Is this just another mopey book about a "broken" woman - a romanticisation of pain that achieves nothing apart from glorifying those who fall apart "beautifully"?

Well, there is a bit of that, yes. This is Mona Awad we're talking about, after all.

To an extent, I do find her depictions of loss, pain and self-esteem quite fascinating. She captures how easily people sink into self-destructive behaviours - how easily we can turn to hatred, jealousy and self-pity.

But, in this book, there is light at the end of the tunnel ... in one way or another. I appreciated that.

And while there is light, it wasn't all neatly tied up with a bow like a Disney movie - it still felt real.

2. It gets progressively weirder

Anyone who enjoys books/films like Coraline, Alice in Wonderland and American Psycho will have a field day with this novel.

Here's a little recreation of my reading experience:

"Oh, a mysterious spa retreat by the sea. Cool. Who are these sinister masked figures in extravagant dresses?"

*a few chapters later*

"Okay, so the pulsating, red, jellyfish-like creatures in the giant tanks absorb memories?"

*a few chapters later*

"Who is this guy from the mirror that looks exactly like Tom Cruise? Why is he insisting that his name is Seth'?"

*that one chapter arrives*

"What the actual f*ck is happening right now?*

You truly don't know everything until the end ... even then, some things remain unexplainable.

3. It's a creative way to address beauty expectations

This book doesn't shove societal critiques in your face - but if you pay attention, they're there.

I'm about to go full English Lit nerd mode and discuss a few minor spoilers: you have been warned.

When we travel with Belle into her memories, she recalls feeling ugly as a child. She hates her Egyptian complexion and wishes she looked like her white, red-headed mother.

When she gets her "Treatments", her childhood wish come true; her complexion grows paler.

Well well, if it isn't an allegory to the beauty industry, which to date has been incredibly racist, promoting smooth, Caucasian complexions as the ideal beauty standard.

Awad also addresses ageing and the beauty industry: women in particular are praised for looking young and for "fighting" ageing, and we see this in the attention Belle's mother receives before she dies.

Awad's pointing out that women are pressured to fork out thousands of dollars to look youthful, smooth and shiny - Belle nearly pays for it with her soul, and in a way, we do too.

After all, we're fighting our skin and ourselves, trying to become someone else in a sense.

Awad really hits this home at the end of the book. It's one of my favourite lines.

Sylvia tells Belle that she's "looking better these days".

"How?" Belle asks.

"Like you," Sylvia says.

I wouldn't say this book will have women mass-boycotting the beauty industry, but it's a great message: it's better to look like you than to sacrifice everything you are in pursuit of becoming the "ideal" beauty standard. Turns out the ideal isn't always ideal, anyway.

Mona Awad has done it again with her latest novel, Rouge. It's disturbing, it's weird, it's satirical, and it features intertextuality - what more could a book nerd want?