Decline this invitation: Sophie Kinsella's 'The Party Crasher' is nothing to celebrate

I like Sophie Kinsella books. Or rather, I thought I liked Sophie Kinsella books. But then I read "The Party Crasher." 

Kinsella is known for developing relatable, stubborn and often immature protagonists who find themselves subjected to wildly stressful situations, generally of their own creation. Her books are reliably funny, entertaining and popular for a reason. But with "The Party Crasher" (Dial Press, 368 pp., ★★ out of four, out Tuesday), I found myself cringing far too frequently and skimming through what felt like a never-ending, painful evening in the life of main character Effie Talbot, or Ephelant as her family affectionately calls her (a nickname that tripped me up each time I read it). 

Effie is invited to her childhood home by her father's new girlfriend, Krista, for a "house cooling" party – a final goodbye before they sell the place. Due to family strife, Effie rejects the invitation, but later decides to sneak into the event in an attempt to discreetly retrieve a sentimental possession from the home. No less than three people try to talk her out of the cockamamie plan, but Effie insists, and chaos ensues. The entire book is spent waiting for Effie to be discovered – with countless near-misses – while she has internal debates about whether she should abandon her bizarre plan. (She should.) 

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In her most popular works, Kinsella puts her characters in maddening situations where they often make predictably immature choices that have you pulling your hair as you go. (You may spend hundreds of pages wondering, "Why can't you just get ahold of your finances, Shopaholic?") And while I think there is a lot to appreciate about Kinsella's work and the growth her characters show, I don't need a book to put me on edge these days: We're in the midst of yet another COVID-19 surge, Afghanistan is in crisis and Texas recently announced a restrictive abortion law that is further dividing the nation. In 2021, the world around us is stressful enough.  

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Is Effie funny? Sure. Sympathetic? Yes. I certainly felt sorry for her. Relatable? Perhaps. Though I'd argue most of Kinsella's other characters (and any sane person) would have moved past this particular heist after a few chapters, and we'd be onto the next setting.

But since Kinsella chose to almost entirely contain the novel to one evening, the book feels claustrophobic. It's as if the author was unwilling to give readers – or her narrator – a chance to exhale and reflect. 

About three-quarters of the way through, the book accelerates and drastically improves, and maybe for the most patient readers, that's rewarding. For me, it was too little, too late. It doesn't mean I'll never pick up another Kinsella book, but this particular party was an evening I wish I'd declined. 

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