A Book that change my thoughts

I want to say this is a case of “It’s not the book, it’s me.” But then again, isn’t that the case for every book we end up disliking that everyone else enjoyed?


The Love Hypothesis follows Olive, a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and is dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Carlsen, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors. With his own reasoning, he agrees to become Olive’s fake boyfriend. But what starts as a fake relationship and fake feelings later turns into what Olive wishes were real instead.


Olive is a woman in STEM, but that is really all she is. I admit, I loved this representation, and her experience as a scholar conducting research felt realistic, especially considering she’s not American (she’s Canadian), she’s not male, and she’s pretty young (26). Most of these end up being boundaries for young folk pursuing PhD careers in America, and it’s impressive to see representation like this. This was probably my favorite part of the book because Olive tells us how it’s been difficult for her to participate in a rigorous program like this, from being denied opportunities, not being believed in, to being seen as inferior, all because she’s a young woman in a predominantly male-dominated curriculum. While I’m not a STEM student, I even see it myself in the political field I study in. Men teach most classes, most advisors and major professors are also male, most students in classes end up being men, and everything else is usually male-dominated.


Other than that, there was nothing.


One part of the problem is Adam himself. Adam felt very, very bland. It was difficult to understand his personality and the type of person he was other than moody and sullen because it’s something we are constantly and repeatedly told, especially from Olive. I usually like fictional men like him, even if the way he acts and looks is nothing new, but this case didn’t work for me. You could say he needed much more seasoning.


Not only that, but by visualizing what I read, I couldn’t picture Olive for the life of me. All I remember from her is that she is a PhD student in the Biology Department at Stanford University, is Canadian, 5”8, and I guess she has brown hair based on the cover. And . . . yeah, that’s it. Visually, I could envision Adam more than Olive, yet we spend the entire book in Olive’s mind (since it’s told from her point of view). This all ties back to the writing and how difficult it was to enjoy the book more because of how little description was given to the characters. Adam, for instance, felt like he needed more personality. I understand him being sullen and broody is part of it (which, as I’ve said before, is perfectly fine with me and understandable), but I feel like it has to do less with that and more with just the mere fact that Adam is just . . . Adam. The whole book, we don’t really know what Olive looks like or what she likes, and all we know about Adam is that he is a young, hot-shot professor who hardly ever smiled and went through tough situations as a PhD student himself. Oh, and we can’t forget that he’s big, especially when you’re reminded every fucking page.


That was it.


Speaking of, Olive’s personality also felt a little childish sometimes. The situation that led to Olive kissing Adam (without knowing, of course) is completely unrealistic, so it’s one you need to put your logic to the side for. It made no sense to me how a PhD student, one who is researching pancreatic cancer in one of the best Biology departments of the United States, would kiss a random man she saw in the hallway because she wants to prove to her best friend that she truly is over the boy her best friend wants to date. Because . . . yeah, that’s the actual situation. Olive’s best friend, Anh, wants to date Jeremy, Olive’s ex. Olive is over him and wants nothing to do with him, but Anh thinks it’s breaking the girl code by dating Jeremy, even though Olive knows Anh really likes Jeremy. So to prove that she’s over him and is dating someone else, she kisses Adam when she sees the opportunity that Anh can see them.


Pretty unrealistic scenario for a PhD student, if you ask me.


Also, it’s not exactly stated, but Olive may or may not be in the asexual spectrum, specifically demisexuality. It’s briefly mentioned in the beginning (even the term is used) and when she and Adam are about to have sex, she mentions to Adam, “It’s not that I want to not have sex. I just . . . don’t particularly want to have it. There is something weird about my brain, and my body, and—I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I don’t seem to be able to experience attraction like other people. Like normal people. I tried to just . . . just to do it, to get it over with, and the guy I did it with was nice, but the truth is that I just don’t feel any . . .” She closed her eyes. This was difficult to admit. “I don’t feel any sexual attraction unless I actually get to trust and like a person, which for some reason never happens. Or, rarely. It hadn’t, not in a long time, but now—I really like you, and I really trust you, and for the first time in a million years I want to—” For starters, I literally got second-hand embarrassment, and second, I can’t help but wish it was was expanded more on. It was as if the author just wanted to add more to Olives lacking personality so she sprinkled some pretty damn humiliating ace representation.


Many people might not realize how ignorant it really is when you take a misrepresented and underrepresented sexual orientation and make your character say “there is something wrong with [her] brain,” making it seem like she “isn’t normal” because she experiences sexual attraction differently than “normal people”. Saying this is stereotypical, ignorant, and generally rude.