For any girl who has sought self-confidence in the arms of a boy, who has lost sight of her own identity in the face of love, who has struggled to balance ambition with a romantic relationship, “College Girl” is (at least at first) the story of her life.
Undergoing a constant inner battle, Natalie Bloom is an intelligent, yet self-conscious 20-year-old girl. And, yes, at 20, she has yet to bloom. The novel tells the story of her journey to womanhood, including typical trials scattered along the road.
The novel begins strongly. The reader is interested in a girl who spends all her free time in the library. There is hope that the Russian history major will be able to branch out and overcome her social insecurity. With Natalie’s sole focus on academic work, she has little need for good looks. At the beginning of the narrative, Natalie admits her physical attractiveness and is unable to ignore the obvious approval voiced by many a male passerby. She discounts all appeals to her good looks, feeling undeserving of genuine interest because of her working-class roots and her meagerly educated family.
The youngest of eight, Natalie is the epitome of Freudian dysfunction. Natalie is the product of her parents’ inability to express love and her brothers’ constant needling. Upon her return home for winter break, readers witness the gravity of her brothers’ demeaning jokes. As amateur psychologists, readers draw the conclusion that Natalie has become the fragile, timid young woman she is because of her childhood.
Her propensity for mental instability (attributed to a family disposition to such) is amplified when she becomes obsessed with her “first love.” From the beginning, she pushes him away, feeling undeserving as a result of her perception of his elevated social and intellectual position. Despite his growing dislike and obvious emotional apathy, Natalie continues to give her body to him. She tries to convince herself that he will one day love her in the way that she loves him.
Natalie’s downward, self-destructive spiral at first translates as sympathy from the reader. But as Natalie forfeits her virginity, her intellectual curiosity and even her hair, the reader herself may echo the main character’s depression. Natalie seems so absolutely committed to her own unhappiness that it is irritating. One of her dorm mates even tells her, “You were cooler when you just studied. Now you walk around like a scared dog. People can smell your fear.”
Natalie does escape from her own prison, but by that time the reader has already given up on the possibility of Natalie standing up for herself. Her “happy ending” seems to come too late in the story to matter. Readers may be reassured by Natalie’s self discovery, but one would hope that she could have reached such a conclusion in a shorter, or at least less painful, way.
In Patricia Weitz’s first novel, she employs a voice to which many college girls can connect. The book is interspersed with references to drunken hookups, literature and drugs, all of which are prominent features of many college experiences. College-aged girls are not often a target audience for writers, and Weitz has created an accurate portrayal of the insecurities that pervade the lives of so many 20-something women. However, what “College Girl” achieves in accuracy, it lacks in creativity.
