Fluff. That’s all there is to Anatomy of a Boyfriend by Daria Snadowsky. Fluff.
Having acquired one of these objects called “boyfriend” myself recently, I thought that perhaps this novel could guide me, if not entertain me at the least. I thought that perhaps this book could at least top my last read for this paper, The Fault in Our Stars. I thought maybe, just maybe, Daria Snadowsky’s novel could rise above the dumbed-down literature that is Teenage Fiction. I thought wrong.
Anatomy of a Boyfriend is essentially a PG-13 version of Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s paradoxical in the sense that although the language is so unoriginal and plain it could be read at a 3rd-grade reading level, the subjects discussed between the characters is hardly “school-appropriate”.
Of course, it’s not the raunchy content that turned me off, and it’s not Snadowsky’s uninventive diction that had me struggling to get to the last page of nonsense. It’s the fact that, overall, this story has no point. No moral. No life lesson, no happy ending, and no tragic finale. Nothing.
Now, some literature purposefully lacks a cohesive meaning in order to make an artistic statement. Daria Snadowsky clearly had no such intent. Her writing lacks the sort of sophistication one should expect from a published author.
Frankly, I’ve read better fluff.
Information about Anatomy of a Boyfriend and author Daria Snadowsky can be found here.