“Good Material” by Dolly Alderton: Finding Comedy in the Lowest Moments (BOOK REVIEW)

Finding Comedy in the Lowest Moments

Hey, Alex! What have you been reading lately?

I just finished Good Material by Dolly Alderton — an epistolary novel that, coincidentally or not, begins on July 5th, the same day I picked it up. This also happens to be the first novel I read mainly on trains. Over the course of six 1-hour journeys to and fro London Victoria, I found myself smirking or outright laughing in front of some pretty confused/concerned strangers. Much like those train rides, the novel moves quickly. It is easy to follow, light without being shallow, and packed with enough subplots to keep you hooked. Nothing life-changing, but enjoyable throughout.

Tell me more. What is the book about?

I don’t understand why people classify Good Material as a romance novel. It is very anti-romantic at its core, at least to my understanding of romance. Here we follow Andy, a 35-year-old failed comedian, who’s freshly heartbroken after getting dumped by his long-term girlfriend, Jen. He deals with depression, denial, and that strange mid-life realisation that all your friends have settled down and you’re left behind, unsure of what to do and whether you want to catch up with them or not.

Andy has a lot of things to figure out: hair loss, his career, finding a new place to live…but spends most of his time roaming through memories from his ended relationship. You will find him bulk-buying Armani She perfume bottles, downing pints and overthinking whole days away, inventing a brand-new personality in preparation for the most ridiculous therapy session of all time, dealing with his indescribable lodger, Morris, and getting frustrated over the fact that his mates treat their friendship like work now by having to make plans months in advance and not being there for him when he needs them the most.

What are some strong and weak points of the book?

The pacing will appeal to many. The book flows easily with no dull moments whatsoever. Alderton balances the amusing and the emotional in a way that feels honestly masculine and British. As a person who doesn’t understand British humour at all, I am sure a couple of jokes flew over my head, but even I found the book deserving of a laugh on many occasions.

I did not feel sorry or tried to sympathise with Andy. He is not a likeable character. If anything, I just wanted to shake him up and tell him to get a grip. His impulsive anger and disappointment, although believable given the circumstances, made his character seem like a sulky teenager. The way he reacted to the world felt much more like someone closer to my age — still at uni, and without tons of dating experience, rather than a fully grown adult. I was quite taken aback when his age was revealed, and when I learned that Jen wasn’t his first girlfriend (although all relationships, and our responses to them, are different).

In a way, that’s the whole point. Andy is an anti-hero: unremarkable, self-absorbed, but honest. He doesn’t try to win the reader over or people-please those around him. He remains true to himself, with all his dullness and bad parts, which is what drew me in the most.

One thing that stood out to me is the lack of any actual stand-up routines in the novel. Given Andy’s profession as a comedian, I wish I saw him perform in the book. It would’ve been nice to see his jokes in action, to know what Jen liked about him when they first started dating and why people thought he had potential. Comedy, after all, is about reframing one’s pain into something you can laugh at with others, and that felt like a missed opportunity because I couldn’t fully connect with him as a character.

Any final thoughts? Should I read it too?

Reading Good Material felt refreshing. If you think about it, most romance novels are only interested in the female POV. We rarely get to see male characters navigating heartbreak, especially in contemporary fiction. The novel ends on a hopeful note: six months later, Andy looks at his breakup as “good material,” something he can turn into art. He uses comedy as a sort of therapy. It’s a great reminder that the messiest chapters of our lives are often the ones that bring us most creative fuel and that you can’t do anything but experience them in their full kaleidoscope of emotions.

The final chapter of Good Material surprised me in many ways. Entirely narrated by Jen, it is raw, layered with emotion, and easily became my favourite part of the book. Her simple reasoning for wanting to leave Andy read painfully honest. And yet, this is also the part of the novel I feel most conflicted about.

Good Material was supposed to be Andy’s story; a tale about his grief, and his slow and messy process of healing. Switching to Jen at the end kind of undermined that. It felt like Andy’s narrative wasn’t good enough, like we needed Jen to come “womansplain” things for the breakup to make sense. Andy never learns the full reason for the separation, but we as readers get the luxury of knowing both sides of the story. His confusion is made completely redundant, in comparison to Jen’s ability to reflect on the past with clarity and maturity.

Jen’s voice proved once again that women are, generally, better storytellers when it comes to romantic endings. I am not denying this by any means, but I wonder if her inclusion in the novel was necessary at all. Where would the book have ended if we didn’t get that passage from her, and would I go easier on Andy had she not been part of the conversation? I would love to hear your own thoughts on that, too.

Thank you so much!! Are there any similar books that you can recommend?

Sure thing! If you enjoyed reading this one, you might also like:

😭 Really Good, Actually by Monica Heisey -- similar premise, but told from the perspective of the woman

🌅 The Rest of Our Lives by Ben Markovits -- middle-aged man searches for himself by revisiting people from his past after sending his daughter away to university

📲 limaistyping…

rating: ☀️☀️☀️
tropes: 🧔‍♂️ early middle age crisis | 🎭 creative burnout | 💔 male breakup (#rare) | ☁️ stuck-in-the-past syndrome | 🎨 the art of moving on
for fans of: stand-up comedy, dad jokes, Scotland, The Beatles, Hammersmith
look out for: ↕️ pros/cons lists | 💷 £3.70 hidden rent fees | 👴 receding hairlines | 😔 daddy issues? | the occasional missing 🧦 sock…and hat
"This felt like slowly filling up the cracks of an old wound with little moments of joy"