Working at a bookshop over the festive season, I’m a Fan was a constant presence on the popular book table. I kept seeing it everywhere, and with many readers raving about it, curiosity got the best of me. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if I’m a fan.
A Messy Young Woman Trope
I’m a Fan follows the story of a young woman who is obsessed with a man she cannot be with. The man is married and is also having an affair with another women. One of these women is also the young woman’s obsession – she stalks her online and then in real life. Oh did I tell you the young woman also has a boyfriend? Her everyday life is her going to work, stalking the other woman, meeting her friends sometimes, and thinking about the man she can’t be with.
I know I said I wasn’t sure why I picked up the book, but I can tell you that I was intrigued by the premise and the writing style. The messy young woman trope often appeals to me and this seems to be just that. On top of that, I enjoyed the diaristic writing style—it felt raw, immediate, and suited the obsessive nature of the narrator. The choice to leave characters unnamed, referring to them only as the narrator does in her mind, was a clever touch that reinforced the story’s themes. But as the novel progressed, I found myself increasingly frustrated. The narrator repeatedly made self-destructive choices, and while I understand that’s part of the book’s appeal—its exploration of power, desire, and toxicity—I couldn’t help but mentally check out. If this were a TV show or my friend in real life, I’d be sitting there, staring blankly at the screen, silently judging her every move.
But how messy do you want your character to be?
I don’t mind reading about flawed or unlikeable protagonists. But something about the narrator’s obsessive cycle felt exhausting rather than compelling. I kept waiting for new insights, a shift in perspective, or even just a moment of clarity, but I wasn’t sure if she ever reaches that necessarily. Don’t get me wrong—there were moments where she seemed aware of her own fixation, but instead of using that awareness to change, she let herself spiral deeper into it.
I couldn’t quite tell whether the book wanted me to root for the narrator, pity her, or simply observe her unraveling from a distance. If I was meant to empathize with her, it didn’t quite work—I found myself more irritated than invested. And if the goal was to make her a fascinating train wreck of a character, I think it needed more depth or complexity to make her fixation compelling rather than just exhausting.
The diaristic style was effective in pulling me into her head, but maybe a little too effective. I felt trapped inside her obsessive thought patterns, with no escape. Instead of offering insights or peeling back layers of her psyche, it just hammered in the same self-destructive impulses over and over again. I kept waiting for a shift—some kind of revelation, realization, or even just a moment where she sees herself clearly—but it never quite came.
While I can see why I’m a Fan resonated with so many readers, I ultimately found it more frustrating than thought-provoking. The writing is sharp, and the themes of power and obsession are well-drawn, but the repetitive nature of the narrator’s fixation made it a difficult read for me. If you enjoy deeply immersive, messy character studies, you might find this compelling. But personally, I was left wanting more. Maybe I wasn’t the right audience for this book. Or maybe I just don’t have the patience for a character so determined to self-destruct. Either way, one thing’s for sure—I’m not a fan.
I’m a Fan – Sheena Patel
In I’m A Fan, a single speaker uses the story of their experience in a seemingly unequal, unfaithful relationship as a prism through which to examine the complicated hold we each have on one another. With a clear and unforgiving eye, the narrator unpicks the behaviour of all involved, herself included, and makes startling connections between the power struggles at the heart of human relationships and those of the wider world, in turn offering a devastating critique of access, social media, patriarchal hetero-normative relationships, and our cultural obsession with status and how that status is conveyed.
In this incredible debut, Sheena Patel announces herself as a vital new voice in literature, capable of rendering a range of emotions and visceral experiences on the page. Sex, violence, politics, tenderness, humour—Patel handles them all with both originality and dexterity of voice.
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