“I‘ve observed Mom long enough to know that nothing scares off a man like what a woman wants from him.”
Half His Age is vulgar. It’s bold, piercing, poignant. McCurdy has created something uncomfortably evocative. I ended up unable to sleep ‘til 3am because what I was reading made me so angry and uncomfortable. She really does not let us doubt for a moment what’s happening to Waldo, and yet she manages to balance that with some really careful nuance and characterisation that reveals so much if you take the time to notice it. The abuse is the story, yes, but it’s also a tale of power, neglect, how dangerous loneliness can be, over-consumption, mothers and daughters, internalised misogyny, friendship — and she handles it all.
It’s so refreshing to have one of these books where the girl isn’t a perfect victim: Waldo’s unlikeable; she’s self-centred in a way you’d call narcissistic if she were an adult. She judges everyone around her; she over-consumes; she’s sexually aggressive; she actively pursues this balding married man, her teacher, from day one. She thinks she understands everyone and everything; micro-analysing the way a woman smiles at her husband over dinner, the looks of pity in her best friend’s eyes. She projects what she wants to see, creating fictions of the people she interacts with, convinced she understands their motivations better than they do themselves. She invents a fantasy where his wife is a burden, a bore, a villain. Him, the poor, emasculated, helpless, miserable man who needs saving from his terrible wife/life.
Yet she doubts herself implicitly; buys makeup and clothes in excess to feel something, wants to shape herself into everything she thinks others want her to be. She is ashamed of her upbringing, she self-deprecates by calling herself white trash before others can make the comment themselves. She’s a walking contradiction in clothes she hates and makeup that doesn’t match her face — exactly as a 17 year old girl would be! I almost hated her, yet wanted so badly to give her a hug and give her the advice and care she clearly never received from her Mother.
I really appreciate how this book doesn’t shy away from parental blame — although, a few more sentences condemning the deadbeat Father wouldn’t go amiss. Other books I’ve read with similar themes do show how young girls with dysfunctional family relationships are more likely to be preyed upon, precisely because their family won’t notice what’s happening to them. This one takes it a little further; making so many direct parallels between inappropriate behaviour from her Mother and Mr Korgy, and how Waldo has to shape herself to satisfy them both in frighteningly similar ways.
She had to grow up too fast and never really got to be a child. Yet, every assertion of her maturity only serves to remind us how young she is. McCurdy expertly captures that dichotomy between how old and mature you feel at 17, and how young and naive you truly are. This book does not let us forget for a second that she is still a child (and quite clearly still looks like a child); whether that’s when her Mother doesn’t notice she hasn’t been home for weeks, or when her hand can’t fit around his [redacted].
He taunts and manipulates, he exerts his power and experience over her. She thinks she’s going crazy when she’s not completely happy with their arrangement, when she has to baby him and reassure him, beg him to be with her. His abuse is textbook, as is her Mother’s, and as is how she handles it. And yet reading it feels fresh and sharp. It makes your skin crawl; you almost want to stop reading but can’t look away. It perfectly captures that pretence of reluctance: the way the man in power will manipulate the situation until the underage girl is begging him to give her a chance, promising she won’t tell anyone. I cheered when she finally starts to put things together and questions his words, only then does she truly start to become her own person.
I don’t necessarily think this is a perfect book, but with the way I kept wanting to scream at the characters and throw it at the wall it feels wrong not to give it a 5. This could obviously be quite triggering for some, but if you can handle the subject matter I absolutely recommend it.