Carrie Soto Is Back – Taylor Jenkins Reid
Expectation: Another engrossing novel about a fictional character that feels like someone you’ve known about your whole life.
Reality: Shallow and repetitive but still entertaining, it is the least interesting story from the author.
My Take:
The latest entry into the Taylor Jenkins Reid (TJR) literary universe has a few things inherently working for it. First, it follows her winning formula of nostalgia-fueled historical fiction through a contemporary lens. Second, she knows how to write a compulsively entertaining story.
However, there’s a few things working against it, too. It’s too long, too repetitive and Carrie Soto, while an admirable character, is not as easy to root for as say, Evelyn, Daisy and Nina. There’s a coldness that permeates her portrayal, which is perfectly matched to her quest — reclaiming her professional tennis glory at 37-years-old — but it also creates a barrier.
This isn’t a novel that really needs a review. It’s going to be a blockbuster regardless of criticism, but if you’re a fan of TJR’s work, this one is easily my least favorite. For the first 50 percent I was hooked, but then we get a wash, rinse and repeat cycle of tennis grand slams and re-worked drama. The novel felt incredibly long for being less than 400-pages.
Here’s a few things I really enjoyed:
The commentary on how women in sports are treated. The media loves to talk about what a bitch Soto is. In fact, she’s called one on live television. TJR makes no qualms about Soto being distant and cold, but it’s because she’s a competitor first and not a show pony. Even though the action takes place in the mid-90s, TJR’s spotlight on sexism, racism and misogyny is apt to today. Look no further to how Tom Brady is discussed versus Simone Biles and Naomi Osaka.
The cut-ins. TJR keeps things snappy with various cut-ins of news reports about the perception of Soto coming back. It’s another way for her to provide social and cultural commentary from a third person perspective. Plus, her throw-ins about pop culture of the time — the OJ Simpson trial, up-and-coming actress Cameron Diaz, etc. — help remind you this is “historical” when it reads incredibly contemporary. Finally, these cut-ins provide her the opportunity to throw in Easter Eggs to her previous novels.
Soto’s relationship with Nikki Chan. Chan is the current tennis superstar who claimed Soto’s long-standing record, and it’s her that Soto is gunning to beat. However, Chan is the opposite of Soto — friendly and engaging while still slaughtering people on the court. TJR has fun with the juxtaposition between the two as they develop a friendship, and their interactions were one of the only things I enjoyed about the second half of the novel.
The audiobook narration. More on that below.
Here’s a few things I didn’t like:
The tennis. Okay, yes, I know this is a book about a tennis player so there’s going to be tennis. But after the play-by-play of her first grand slam match at the Australian Open, I was BORED. Maybe people with an interest/understanding of the sport will feel differently, but I zoned out during the training montages and tournament recaps, which account for about 30 percent of the story.
Soto’s other relationships. Javier, her father/coach, Bowe, another long in the tooth superstar looking to reclaim glory and Gwen, her agent, were all perfectly passable characters. Yet outside of some early moments between Javier and Carrie, nothing about them were specifically unique or special. Their characterizations felt trite and uninspired compared to TJR’s other supporting rosters.
It’s shallow. At the end of the novel, it felt like TJR tried too hard to make us care about Soto. She is an empowering figure, but her journey was one-note. One of the great things about Evelyn Hugo and Nina Riva is that they bucked convention. Their journey was not linear and was often surprising. Everything about Soto — outside of her gender and ethnicity for the era — felt conventional and predictable.
The audiobook narration. More on that below.
TJR audiobooks are always a treat. They attract cream-of-the-crop talent and have high production values, with well-placed sound effects and full casts. While this was a fine audiobook it was also overstuffed, which overshadowed the strongest element: Stacy Gonzalez.
Gonzalez does yeoman’s work as Carrie, Javier, Nikki, Gwen and Bowe. I’ve had friends read the novel saying they are distracted by the Spanglish and feel Carrie comes across as unlikable, but neither of those things bothered me in the narration. Gonzalez found Soto’s humanity and helped you see the person through the machine. She also did fantastic work giving the other characters distinct personalities, which helped to alleviate the shortcomings they were given by TJR. The Carrie/Nikki conversations were especially fun. Her work is one of the best narrations of the year.
However, Gonzalez is one of 12 — yes, 12! — narrators. You might be asking, who else is there to narrate when she takes on all the leads? Great question! Outside of real-life sports commentators Mary Carillo, Pat McEnroe and Rob Simmelkjaer, who add a little gravitas to fictional sports programs, the rest narrate a bunch of throw-away characters, all from the cut-ins, that are unremarkable and distracting. Gonzalez could’ve handle it all alone.
Rating (story): 3/5 stars
Rating (narration): 4/5 stars
Formats: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: September 5 – September 8, 2022
Multi-tasking: Good to go. TJR’s novels aren’t incredibly difficult to follow, but if you’re not a tennis fan, you’ll find it difficult to follow the action if you aren’t listening closely.
