By Chung Yu Kwok
Icebreaker is a book that really makes you think. Throughout the entire experience, I asked myself a multitude of questions: Why am I reading this? Do any of these characters feel shame? (No.) Did this book originate from Wattpad? (Yes. And you can tell.)
The premise of this novel can be found online, and I don’t feel the need to regurgitate it here because I would be spoiling the entire story. In some ways, I feel that this book is the culmination of the author’s attempts to wedge as many tropes in as possible. They call this a hockey romance, but ‘romance’ is a subjective term, as we’ve learned, and the characters spend more time at frat parties than the ice rink. The author also clearly spent more time describing bodily interactions than doing her research (why is Anastasia, a college pairs figure skater, trying to land a quad Lutz out of nowhere?) Someone please tell Hannah Grace - the next SJM if you ask me - that dubious Uber rides will not adequately conceal your lack of a plot. As soon as I finished reading this book, I felt I had to read it again - only because so little happened in 130,000 words that I wondered if I had even read anything at all.
Let’s begin with our cast. This book is overpopulated not only with tropes but also characters - and the 3-4 nicknames that come attached with each individual’s birth certificate, apparently. At some point my mind chose to ignore every character whose name wasn’t some variation of Anastasia (our female lead, also known as Stas or Stassie or Annie or something) or Nathan (Nate? Nathaniel? Please just pick one.) I understand that Hannah Grace needs a bit of shameless self-promo for the fifty spin-offs she has lined up, but I can barely remember the names of our two protagonists. Do I want to?
Anastasia and Nathan’s relationship is Powerpuff Girls approved: made with sugar, spice, and everything (well, some things) nice. You have a healthy dose of insta-love that is balanced out with a flimsy enemies-to-lovers based on inconveniences and misconceptions. I don’t feel the need to elaborate on the spice - just know that nowadays, ‘young adult’ is as subjective a term as ‘romance’. Every time a book with a Rainbow Magic-esque drawing of the main couple on its front cover is marketed towards minors, you should move along. Do not sate your curiosity, for you will only be rewarded with feelings of disgust at best and short-term memory loss at worst. On a nicer note, I do appreciate that our two leads are not unpleasant to each other. There will always be questionable moments in these sorts of books that threaten to shatter my faith in humanity, but Icebreaker doesn’t seem to contain any particularly jarring violations of human rights - between Anastasia and Nathan, at least. As the reader, I’m not sure I can say the same.
Enter Aaron Carlisle. This is where I must praise Hannah Grace and her Wattpad account for creating an antagonist that is not only somewhat complex and original, but also genuinely dislikeable. From the first mention of his name, I knew this young lad had some unresolved internal conflict that obviously stemmed from a complicated relationship with his father figure - otherwise known as daddy issues, and lo and behold. Unfortunately, we do not cater to overgrown man-children in this world, so apologies to Aaron, but please, good sir, just grow up. Here we have a man who treats the object (and I mean object) of his affections like garbage - with verbal attacks, defamation, sexual harassment, the whole trifecta - instead of admitting quite simply that he has a crush on her. As Anastasia rightfully claimed (perhaps in a more tactful manner), Aaron needs to seek help.
I suppose one matter I have neglected is a breakdown of the two characters whose perspectives we are locked in throughout the story, but there’s nothing much to say. Anastasia might just have a personality. She’s almost like a normal human being, which is shocking for a protagonist of the romance genre. Nathan is a decent guy. If I were to bump into these two in town, I’m sure we would have a pleasant conversation with only a slight sense of the uncanny valley.
(To tie up a final loose end, there is also a character called Ryan who exists, but that appears to be his only purpose aside from the benefits which he provides Anastasia, so I will leave it at that.)
And so that concludes yet another successful read of what we as a society define as contemporary romance. I am now convinced that chivalry is not dead but merely suffering from a chronic disease. For that, I give Icebreaker a solid 3.5 out of 5. I shall not willingly come into contact with another novel from the Maple Hills series again, but let that not deter any eager readers - unless you are twelve, in which case I must reiterate that your mother probably did not check the contents of this book before she bought it for you for Christmas. Leave it on your TBR for the next ten years. Then, Happy Holidays, I guess.