Review for Exciting Times: Choking on Vulnerability

A book like Naoise Dolan’s Exciting Times is one that I didn’t know I craved so badly until I started to read it. It’s ridiculously dynamic but subtly so, to not be overbearing. I’d love to be able to call it a bildungsroman as well, but I don’t think that’s the purpose of this book. I’d say instead that what Dolan is really pondering throughout the novel is what it feels and looks like to be a state of prolonged, heavy stasis. To show someone in a period of life that must answer questions while also recognizing that sometimes (for a long time) it is overwhelming to make even the smallest moves toward doing so.

The book opens after the main character, Ava, has made the decision to move to Hong Kong from Dublin to teach English as a second language. In the first chapter, we meet Julian, her only friend in the city, as they have lunch. There is an immediate frost in Ava and a pointed lack of depth in Julian’s first moments. However, though both initially portray unlikeable and hostile characteristics, they are also wildly alluring in their simultaneous efforts to keep each other at arms length. It’s a fruitless effort from both that inevitably breaks as they start living together and having sex, though they never call what they have a relationship. I wouldn’t say this is a spoiler, though, and would further speculate that there is a purposeful predictability to this series of events. More importantly, the book is separated into three sections: I. Julian, II. Edith, and III. Julian and Edith. And after the first section that explores Ava’s inexplicable feelings for the young banker from London comes to a close, it becomes crystal clear that this novel is about to become a bisexual’s dream (and nightmare) as the crescendo of Edith swells before our eyes.

I say ‘nightmare’ in parentheses because what is perhaps most confrontational about this novel is the dreadful question that many non-heterosexual folks (speaking from experience) find themselves constantly asking: what if my attraction to any one gender is based entirely off of performativity? What if my love for any one person, regardless of their gender, is rooted in a need for the validation that I conform to what will find me a place in the world? Ava’s relationships with both Julian and Edith are entrenched in these questions. No matter how happy she is in any given moment, and no matter if she is curled up with one of them on a bed in a moment of bliss, the questions will always be there. They will also always need answering, which leads Eva to consistently swallow and choke on her inability to be vulnerable and find the truth. That is, until the very end; but I won’t spoil that part.

I would also like to say, though, that ‘dream’ is outside of parentheses because it really does fulfill one to watch these two women fall in love. It is so wholesome and relatable in its insecurity; so much so that I refuse to say anything more about Edith to not give away what it’s like to read her for the first time.

If it wasn’t obvious, Dolan’s exceptional strength (amongst many others) lies in her character creations. Of course, Ava, Julian, and Edith are the three pillars of the novel and obviously the most fleshed out. However, every single character has depth of their own and adds a crucial element to the book. Whether it be the salaciousness of Julian’s friend Victoria, the gentleness of his father Miles, the politeness of Edith’s mother, Mrs. Zhang, or the simple fact of Ava’s friend Sebastian’s gorgeous appearance, they all provide increasing insight into the mental state of each main character, albeit mostly for Ava and her consistent instability. It’s a brilliant network and an incredible understanding of humans that makes the reader confront their own worst and best traits.

As I mentioned in the opening paragraph, there are subtle themes that expanse the book which include, but are certainly not limited to, capitalism, socialism, climate change, travel, racial identity, and human rights. All of them are subtle yet crucial in their own way as nothing in this book is trivial; everything serves a purpose and has meaning which, in my opinion, is what makes a great novel. My favourite of these extra themes, though, is Dolan’s web of English language contemplations. As an ESL teacher, Ava often speaks of her job and the lessons she teaches which always connect to either Julian or Edith, but also to who she is as a person. By framing Ava through this lens of constant attention to diction and semantics, Dolan did more than simply catch the eyes of English graduates. Through this theme, Ava's inability for vulnerability doesn't need to be explicitly stated by anyone, least of all her, but rather shown through her obsession with how people speak. They are lovely little nuggets that are placed thoughtfully throughout the book and force the reader to extend beyond the confines of the characters and novel more broadly. Essentially, through use of this small motif, Dolan effortlessly achieves a push towards philosophical reflection amidst a seemingly average storyline of a woman caught between loving two people.

It’s a beautiful book, and though I have my own issues with the ending (that have nothing to do with who Ava ends up with and rather ironically have to do with the style of it), I would recommend this novel to anyone who just wants a book that’s great and gay. Because this is it!