You Should Be So Lucky Comes Out This Week

[+ Lucky]

I had the privilege of reading an advance review copy of You Should Be So Lucky, which debuts on Tuesday. Not only did I like it, the NY Times has given it front page coverage.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/24/books/review/new-romance-novels.html?searchResultPosition=8

Times:

But sometimes there is no hope. Illness worsens, accidents strike, you lose people you love. It’s inevitable, as Cat Sebastian’s blunt, beautiful midcentury historical makes clear: “Unless a couple has the good fortune to get hit by the same freight train, their story ends in exactly one way.”

At the start of YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY (Avon, 382 pp., paperback, $18.99), the journalist Mark Bailey is only 16 months out from the death of his partner. He’s coasting. It’s only when he’s assigned to write about a flailing baseball player on the sad-sack New York Robins that he finds something to connect to: “What’s happening to Eddie O’Leary is an end. That’s something Mark knows about; that’s something Mark can write about.”

 

 

Eddie, “a wad of bad ideas rolled into the approximate shape and size of a professional baseball player,” doesn’t know why he is suddenly terrible at a game he loves. He’s lonely and new to the city and shunned by the teammates he bad-mouthed to the press. He’s grateful for Mark’s attention even though he knows it’s an assignment, and he’s quick to notice all the little kind impulses Mark would die rather than admit to. Their romance is like watching a Labrador puppy fall in love with a pampered Persian cat, all eager impulse on one side and arch contrariness on the other.

People think the ending is what defines a romance, and it does, but that’s not what a romance is for. The end is where you stop, but the journey is why you go. Whether we’re talking about love, baseball or life itself, Sebastian’s book bluntly scorns measuring success merely by end results: “The crowd is hopeful, but it isn’t the kind of hope that comes with a fighting chance. It’s a hope that doesn’t need success to validate it. It’s something like affection, maybe with a bit of loyalty mixed in.”

Hoping, loving are things you do for their own sake, to mark being a human among other humans. Or as Eddie puts it: “Sometimes you want to look at a guy and say: Well, he’s f——-, but he’s trying.”

I can think of no better summary of why we do any art. If you read one romance this spring, make it this one.