Store-bought Feminism — THEY NEVER LEARN

if you identify with Bella from Twilight, you'll like this one

After revisiting a bunch of old and dusty Classics (I love old and dusty), I felt like I’d used Hermione’s Time Turner and was permanently stuck in 1800s England. I was desperate to read something that would mention a smartphone, or Instagram, or hot girls living their best life. They Never Learn by Layne Fargo offered all of the above and more, so naturally, it was my first choice.

Here’s a quick low-down:

Scarlett Clark is an exceptional English professor. But she’s even better at getting away with murder. Every year, she searches for the worst man at Gorman University and plots his well-deserved demise.

Meanwhile, Gorman student Carly Schiller is just trying to survive her freshman year. However, her new roommate has other ideas. Allison Hadley is cool and confident—everything Carly wishes she could be—and the two girls quickly form an intense friendship. So when Allison is sexually assaulted at a party, Carly becomes obsessed with making the attacker pay... and turning her fantasies about revenge into a reality.

Let’s start with the things I liked.

1. Short, snappy chapters

We switch between Scarlett and Carly’s POVs in alternating chapters. They’re pretty different in personality and circumstances, and since the chapters were super short (about a few pages each), the story is engaging and easy to follow. There are also plenty of murder and heartstopping moments, so if you have a short attention span, this is guaranteed to keep you engaged and on your toes.

2. Fargo keeps her writing cute and classy

Despite the frequent jumps in perspectives, the writing isn’t messy or confusing. The occasional measured drop of a more ‘advanced’ word makes the prose dynamic, not convoluted. As a result, her descriptions of people, places, and feelings are clear, and concise, making for a surprisingly pleasant reading experience — proof that you can flex your vocabulary range without spattering your stories with archaic language that makes characters sound like robots modelled after 1940’s Oxbridge stereotypes...

3. The ‘Gotcha!’ moment really did got me

Most of the twists were fairly predictable (I’ll get to that in a bit), but the first one really shocked me. I was on the treadmill at the gym when it happened, and gasped so loud I caught a few stares.

Once it’s revealed, you realise Fargo has been dropping clues the whole time, though she cleverly mitigates it with red herrings. A quicker reader might’ve guessed it earlier on, but I generally operate on three brain cells at any given time so I was honestly gooped and gagged. Loved it. 10/10.

4. Sexual assault awareness — because there can never be enough

Sexual assault (SA) on college campuses is a social pandemic that has been going on for decades. According to a 2020 AAU study, more than 25% of undergraduate women students have reported experiencing nonconsensual sexual contact since enrolling in their schools. That’s not including postgrads, TGQN, and people of unstated gender.

Awareness of this issue has risen, but not amongst the right people. What I mean is that victims are now more educated about what constitutes sexual assault, how to report it, and the resources available to them — zilch on the assaulter’s part about respecting boundaries and not being a fucking dickhead.

In light of this, women have adopted ‘alternative’ ways to ward off unsavoury men, such as pretending to be mentally ill, literally barking at men like dogs or hissing like cats. To this, my girl Fargo says, “Fuck all that, let’s do murder instead.” Which, to me, is a pretty sensible train of thought. If men are doing the mostest with us, why can’t we do the mostest to them? And by ‘mostest’, I mean hunt them down and kill them in a meticulous and extremely premeditated fashion. It was self-defence, officer, I swear. 🥺

However, while Fargo’s intention of spreading awareness about SA and the stolen autonomy of women on college campuses is timely and extremely necessary, I don’t think this book was the slay she intended it to be.

A few missing ingredients

I think of fictional novels as a kind of literary parfait. There’s the fancy decoration on top, that’s the lexical pizzazz and embellishments. The plot and writing are the second and third layers of cream and fruits. The bottom layers are whatever message the author is trying to send — the thing that gives the book purpose and meaning. You can’t have the decorations without the foundational layers, and They Never Learn is a poorly-built parfait that will collapse once you touch your spoon to it.

Granted, not every book has to have meaning. Trashy, smutty books are fun and great for escapism, but if you’ve been reading me for a while, you’ll know there’s one thing I absolutely DESPISE in the literary world, and that is Mr Bean’s turkey: novels masquerading as ingenious and meaningful when all they are are pigeons pumped full of air.

Unfortunately, They Never Learn is inflated with so much ‘feminist’ air it’s nearly exploding. But this book had so much going for it — how did it get ruined?

1. Carly Schiller — The roommate from hell

The story starts off well enough, opening with a delicious kill by our main character, Scarlett Clark, a Gorman University professor. After doing the necessary, she cleans up, powders her nose, and goes off to class. At this point, it was giving Kill-Bill-Taylor-Swift’s-Vigilante-Shit, and I was living for it.

Then the POV shifts to Carly Schiller. The very moment she was introduced, I was like, “Oh, god, here we go.”

Carly is your typical shaggy-haired, lip-chewing, ratty-hoodie-wearing, intellectual Shygirl™ 🥺👉👈 She has no friends, hates her dad (rightfully so), and wants to fade into the background as much as physically possible à la Bella Swan from Twilight, the Pick-Me Girl of the century.

At first, I thought her introvertedness was quite relatable, but then she meets her gorgeous roommate, Allison, who’s perfect in every way, and the book takes a fatal nosedive into Eye-roll Canyon.

These are actual, non-ironic quotes from Carly’s internal monologue:

I sleep in faded plaid pants and an oversize T-shirt, but Allison wears a satin nightgown to bed every night.

Allison doesn’t seem like the type to get jealous if another girl talks to her boyfriend. As if someone like Allison could ever be jealous of someone like me.

She’s so sophisticated. I bet she’s only talking to me because she feels sorry for me.

Allison doesn’t seem like a mean person. She doesn’t seem nice either, she seems… confident, I guess. Maybe I’d be that way too, if I looked like her.

Next to them, I feel impossibly plain, so it’s no wonder their eyes skate right over me. If Allison and I hadn’t been thrown together by the campus housing authority, I’d be just as invisible to her.

That’s not even all of it. But the real kicker for me has to be this one:

If I were a different girl, a normal girl, not a freak with a head full of revenge fanasies.

Can a character be any more up their own arse? To me, a ‘social outcast’ hellbent on making their differences their entire personality is equally insufferable as the cocky jock or pretty mean girl.

Haven’t writers caught on that shit like this makes people detest characters? Look at the flak Riverdale writers got for just this iconic 10-second scene alone.

Besides Bella Swan Syndrome, Carly also suffers from a serious case of messiah complex. When she fails to stop the headstrong Allison from keening to one of the predatory boys, she takes it upon herself to follow Allison wherever she goes. Literally. Everywhere.

I’m sure Carly is well-meaning, and it could be that I’m just not vibing with her overall ‘I’m so different’ shtick, but it got a bit annoying after a while, especially when Allison clearly needs space and Carly isn’t cool with giving it to her.

She can’t be serious. The thought of setting foot in that house again makes me sick, and I’m not even the one who was attacked here.

Allison’s face hardens. “If you don’t want to come, don’t. Jesus.”

But I don’t have a choice. I have to go to the party.

It’s the only way to make sure he doesn’t hurt her again.

Is it me or does it stink of condescension in here?

Firstly, everybody reacts to sexual assault differently. Sure, Allison’s actions proceeding her SA may not be how Carly or anyone else would have responded, but Carly consistently patronises and chastises Allison for being ‘stubborn’ and ‘stupid’ (not her exact words, but the meaning is there). Having received similar comments from a close friend once, I’m begging y’all to be cautious of your knee-jerk reaction if your friend tells you they’ve been SA-ed.

Secondly, it seems to me that Carly’s protectiveness of Allison stems from her attraction to her pretty roommate. If Allison hadn’t looked quite the bombshell she does, would Carly still have this manic obsessiveness over her? Doubt so.

All things considered, I found it incredibly difficult to root for her. She spends half her time gushing about Allison and the other half talking about how ‘she’s not like other girls’. I spent my time in her chapters wondering when they’ll end so we can go back to Scarlet again, whose storyline is ten times more riveting.

2. Cartoon character tropes

Allison aside, all the other victims are described as conventionally pretty and/or superstar students, while the predators (mostly lecherous professors) are friendly-passing with tell-tale grins that give away their intentions right off the bat.

How realistic is it that university staff are teeming with leering, Machiavellian figures intent on abusing their white male power any chance they get? One or two is likely. A handful is plausible, but 95% of them? Come on.

Studies show that assailants can be related to their victims in several ways; most of them are friends or acquaintances. It wouldn’t have hurt to diversify her antagonists a little, IMO. She did try to do that with one or two, but the way they are set up is so contrived and archetypal that it’s difficult to take them as serious characters one might encounter in real-life.

It’s as if Fargo had a little checklist of character tropes she needed to cram into this sexual assault-themed story. So far, we’ve got:

✔️ Quirky Shygirl™ main character who thinks she’s ugly but is actually attractive. Has a vendetta against men because of poor father figure.

✔️ Witless bombshell best friend. Loud. Stubborn. Manic pixie dream girl. The real victim.

✔️ ‘Strong woman’ murderess who won’t stop reminding us every other page about how well she can see through men, how much she hates them, and how desperately she needs her knife across their throats.

✔️ Handsome, rapey douchebags who have been getting away with it until they finally get what’s coming for them. Cookie-cutter. Bored me to an inch of my life.

✔️ Male’ nice guy’ bestie who turns out to be an entitled sleazebag, as most’ nice guys’ do. Supposed to be one of the twists but fell flat on its face because it came in too late, there was no buildup, and was resolved in like the next few chapters. Also… why? Next.

✔️ Sleeper villain, because what is a YA thriller without a double twist? Disappointing. Not the twist, but the choice of character to fill this role.

✔️ Perverted professors who touch their students’ butts and have sex with them in their offices. No comment.

✔️ Pretty girls who get their butts touched and have sex with professors in their offices. No comment.

These are just off the top of my head, having finished this book more than a month ago. I’m pretty sure I’d find more if I read it again, but I don’t think I can bear another word from Carly.

Because the characters are so predictable, the events that play out become predictable too. And I’m not saying such things don’t happen in real life — they definitely do; in fact, they might be the most common, especially the SA scenes. But like I said, I read fiction novels to be entertained. These tropes and storylines have been so run into the ground in books and movies that they cheapen the story and dilute the strong message Fargo wants to get across.

The book’s cover says: “Sizzling with rage and wit, this tightrope thriller feels a bit like getting away with murder.”

Sizzling with rage? Yes. Wit? Not so much. And we only get away with the murders because of plot convenience and the Disneyfication of one-dimensional villains.

Any critical nuance from the feminist discourse is conveniently absent from this tale of revenge, which makes it just like any other formulaic man-hating thriller book on the shelves that serve no purpose or value other than to be an outlet for its author to vent and vilify.

I would definitely still read something else from Fargo because her writing is technically faultless, but in the case of They Never Learn, she might have been better off getting a replacement turkey from the supermarket instead of trying to create her own.

Read my previous Rant: Dark Academia #1: THE SECRET HISTORY vs. IF WE WERE VILLAINS

Or check out previous issues!

• [Recs] 4 Gothic Novels For The Spooky Season

• [Recs] HEARTLESS — The Queen of Hearts Backstory We Didn’t Want But Needed

• [Essay] Death by Ugliness — THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME and FRANKENSTEIN