Dolly Alderton is one of my favourite authors of all time. Actually, scratch that, she’s my ultimate comfort author — from her memoir to her fiction, there’s nothing this woman has published that I haven’t adored.
And it seems I’m not the only one.
Her highly anticipated second novel Good Material had barely come out in November and by December it had already earned its spot as some sort of Bookstagram cult classic. People in all corners of the platform, regardless of niche, shared how much they loved it or couldn’t wait to read it. And I, ever the lurker, couldn’t help but comment “Dolly Alderton is a QUEEN 💅🏻” under all of these posts.
Because she is. She’s one of those authors who so expertly condenses hyper-specific life experiences into a relatable story, embellishes them in beautiful prose, and endows them with personality and a voice. Her previous two books could easily pass as a handbook for London middle-class millennial adulthood. They all astutely breakdown relationships, be they romantic or platonic, into a form of writing that is both analytical and human in essence.
Good Material is no exception.
However, unlike Ghosts and Everything I Know About Love, this one centres around the male perspective on heartbreak.
It’s about averagely successful comedian Andy, who is trying (and failing) to process his recent breakup with the love of his life, Jen. But unlike his other relationships, this one spits him out at the awkward age of 35, when all his other blokey friends are too busy being married and having children to accompany Andy in all the endeavours of male singledom, like going on reckless drunken adevntures or hanging out at the pub. Even worse, without Jen to focus on, he’s confronted with a dying career and an ever-growing bald patch at the back of his head. It’s a humane story of heartbreak, dwindling adult friendships and finding the will to move on.
Now, if you follow me on Instagram, you’ll already know that this novel was my favourite book of 2023. A mere book review wouldn’t do it justice, so I’ll tell you this instead: I listened to the entirety of Good Material on a 7-hour coach ride to Wales, during which I snort-laughed out loud circa 5 times. When I took my headphones off, I realised how quiet everything was around me. Yes, this book had me yelping like a maniac looking out the window for 7 hours and it was so good, I didn’t regret a thing.
Indeed, the narrative had the same cadence and rhythm of a stand-up special. A British one, at that. Given that the main POV in the book is Andy’s, a London-based comedian, this style of writing made the book that much more immersive. Even more, considering Dolly herself doesn’t have a background in comedy (that I know of), the fact that she managed to convey this aspect makes Good Material that much more impressive. Complete with some seriously readable prose, snappy dialogue and heartfelt dynamics between friends, this novel had it all.
However, if you go into it expecting a rom-com, you’d be surprised to find that it’s so much more than that — it’s a story about heartbreak and friendships, about adult life outside the conventions of a relationship, and how society makes single adults feel inadequate.
Ultimately, it’s about Andy and his unresolved issues, some of which, as we come to find out in the book’s last act, he might not even be aware of. But that’s just life, everyone has their side of the story.
I truly can’t fault Good Material. If there had ever been a book I full-heartedly loved without reproach, it’s this one.
If you’ve read this far and you like the sound of Good Material, I have a little surprise for you: I’m launching a giveaway on Monday 22nd of January on my Instagram. The prize? You guessed it: this book. So keep an eye on that for a chance to win this incredible novel.
