The first thing that stands out in Jennette McCurdy’s debut novel is that it’s uncomfortable. Released Jan. 20 by Ballantine Books, “Half His Age” follows Waldo, a 17-year-old girl with a resentment for social niceties, as she begins a relationship with her 40-year-old English teacher, Mr. Korgy. The novel is told from Waldo’s unfiltered point of view, filled with explicit takes that make Waldo more than just a passive observer in her own story.
While its frank nature may make readers uncomfortable, the story is told with the intention of being viscerally real, and the truth is that reality is uncomfortable. McCurdy is aware of this and uses it as a tool to tell the story of what may seem like a stereotypical “May-December” romance with an emotional depth and painful awkwardness that forces readers to confront the unsettling truth of a teacher-student relationship.
This complexity is easy to miss at the beginning of the book. Waldo is first introduced as a Generation Z cliche that doomscrolls shopping websites and yearns for connection. At first, it seems as though the novel will pander to the usual student-teacher stereotypes and toxic dynamic of an age-gap relationship. However, McCurdy said in an interview with Goodreads that she “didn’t want to reduce [Waldo] … to being a one-dimensional character.” Her vision becomes more evident as the book progresses; what initially reads as a teen girl’s romanticization of an inappropriate relationship becomes a study of childlike reasoning colliding with adult manipulation.
While Waldo could easily fall into the tropes of a typical, infatuated teen, submitting to those around her, she’s written with more range. She carries anger throughout the novel, but does so silently. She’s blunt with her words, yet highly attuned to the unspoken meaning in others’ speech. Within the first few chapters, Waldo internally expresses disdain toward Mr. Korgy’s wife, who sidesteps the topic of her living situation: Sour Patch gummies for breakfast, a small home with $5 Ross pillows, a frequently-absent mom and an addiction to Sephora lipsticks and skirts from Shein. These traits make her a character the reader becomes invested in.
In her relationship, she doesn’t mythologize Mr. Korgy, instead viewing him almost analytically. She says that, despite his unattractiveness, she still feels an attachment. She highlights that she lacks the motivation to encourage him to finish his novel as a caring girlfriend might. Waldo also only refers to him as “Mr. Korgy” rather than by his first name, a detail that forces the reader to confront their predatory dynamic with every new piece of dialogue.
While her relationship with Mr. Korgy is a major plot point, the meat of the story lies in Waldo’s journey toward meeting her own needs. Growing up, she was fed the societal myth that women must “wedge [themselves] into a doll, a dream, a marionette with lifeless eyes.” Her mother constantly fed her observations that rooted in Waldo’s mind, including remarking that men run when faced with commitment and that she must always appeal to the male gaze through all sorts of beauty regimens and clothes.
As such, Waldo feels obligated to keep her emotional needs to herself and build rage as a shield. She doesn’t share her inner life with Mr. Korgy, her mother or her singular friend, Frannie. Instead, the reader receives the blasting heat of Waldo’s fury. Waldo’s urgency in controlling her life through clicking “Add to Cart” only grows more intense as the novel goes on. Later, her passive-aggressive behavior toward her loved ones directly contradicts the compliance her mother taught her. McCurdy allows Waldo to express her authentic self through anger rather than have it left unheard and unsaid as is common with female characters. Although McCurdy does leave the reader in Waldo’s head longer than necessary, these vivid descriptions coupled with meaningful plot developments keep it engaging and make her a character worth rooting for.
From start to finish, “Half His Age” is a page turner. McCurdy skips over the mundane to expedite the plot, keeping readers engaged. Waldo’s school life and curriculum are largely omitted, yet her graduation is covered in a single chapter. She rarely socializes, yet a date with a boyfriend her age is covered in meticulous detail. These compelling chapters draw out the tension until the central plot, Waldo’s relationship with Mr. Korgy, is brought back into the narrative. While the book’s structure can occasionally feel choppy, the focus on the central narrative at the expense of lesser details allows space for Waldo’s thoughts and character development to meaningfully convey themes of discomfort, female rage and the search for connection.
Novels often aim to appease the reader, but in writing a character who despises that, McCurdy does the opposite. And out of that comes an uncomfortable — but starkly real — story.
