Jennette McCurdy’s debut novel Half His Age is anything but glamorous. The novel follows Waldo, a jaded 17-year old girl with an absent mother and a chronic fast fashion addiction. Waldo quickly becomes enamoured with her new creative writing teacher, Mr Korgy—a married, middle-aged man who introduces himself as a “failure.” It does not take long before Korgy gives in to Waldo’s obsessive pursuit, and the teenager learns there is an ugly side to dirty fantasies.
It is disappointing to read reviews of this novel which only focus on McCurdy’s previous triumph, her best-selling 2022 memoir I’m Glad My Mom Died. McCurdy’s raw, yet sardonically comedic writing style certainly carries on in this work, and she has once again drawn from her personal experience. Yet, Half His Age is a clear new direction for the writer and a bold emergence into fiction which should be measured by its own merits, rather than as a follow-up.
McCurdy does a great job of illustrating the current challenges or “the horrors” of girlhood in late-stage capitalism. Indeed, as Waldo reflects on how the ideal female identity has been sold to her in various types of packaging, the reader feels her regarding herself as a product to be consumed by Korgy rather than her own person. Some of the novel’s most effective passages centre on Waldo’s loss of identity and autonomy in the relationship, which manifests in both sex and rage. The sexual encounters are masterfully created: sex happens as a brutal bargaining for power, taking every chance to be nauseatingly uncomfortable.
While I am praising the novel for its lack of glamourisation of inappropriate power-dynamics, I also found some of the careful treatment of the subject to be slightly distracting. At times, I found myself wishing McCurdy trusted the reader enough to think critically rather than present her points so heavily-handedly. This was especially distracting in the several argument scenes between Waldo and Korgy, where every line of dialogue felt psychoanalysed by McCurdy’s voice possessing the protagonist. The obvious retrospective commentary also took me out of the conversational present tense in which the novel happens, which otherwise perfectly captures the frantic urgency of a teenage girl.
Illustration by Lauren Tooze (@laurentoozeillustration) for The Student