Rating: 3.4 leaves out of 5
-Characters: 2.5/5
-Story: 2.5/5
-Writing: 4/5
Genre: BritLit, LitFic
-BritLit: 4/5
-LitFic: 4/5
Type: Ebook
Worth?: Depends on the person

Want to thank Netgalley and publishers for giving me the chance to read this book.

I don't know what went through my head when I requested this book. I don't normally read these kind of books and for a good reason. Though pretty short I felt like it dragged. I understand that what her father was doing was having a big impact on HER. That didn't extend to me. I didn't feel what she felt and honestly that's okay.

This might be the most thought-provoking, curious books I have ever experienced. Jo Hamya painted this piece of art and left it wide open to interpretation.

Sophia writes plays. Her Father writes books. Both are successful, but not without the other. Sophia and her Father took a vacation to Italy after her parents got divorced. Sophia typed her Father's book draft as he dictated it. She hated it. In fact, there were many things she couldn't stand about her Father. His book was crude; he brought in a different woman every night of this vacation; he wasn't there for her as much as she needed him; and he insisted she date a boy named Anto while she was in Italy for the summer. Anto was awful. Not really her type. Years later, when Sophia's play has its opening night on the West End, Sophia's Mother and Father come to see it. When the curtain rises, Sophia's Father recognizes the set as the same kitchen from their Italian vacation home. The actor on stage is wearing a shirt just like his. As the story continues to play out on stage, Sophia's Father is hit with memories and questions. What kind of Father was he? What kind of daughter is Sophia?

I had a love/hate relationship with this one. Jo Hamya is an incredible writer. The content was just slow moving. It was a relatively short read and I kept thinking how beneficial it would be to discuss the questions I think the author might be asking;
1. Who is the actual hypocrite in the story?
2. There is a woman with round glasses who is mentioned as an audience member. She points out several flaws in the play to Sophia's Father. She also knows he is a famous writer. When she launches into her explanation of why she doesn't like the play, does she reveal the author's heart message?
3. What does the final chapter with Elena cleaning the vacation house tell us about Sophia and her Father?

One major take away I had from this book was a statement made by the audience member with the round glasses (Most of the characters did not have names).

She says of the play, "The money she's using could have been spent on someone who needs it, with better things to say....it's style over substance...there's nothing new or meaningful about what she's done. "

Sophia's Father: Say a different kind of woman, one of colour, had written this exact play," he argues. "Would you suddenly find it magnificent?

Round glasses: A woman of colour wouldn't have written a play like this. Not everyone has the luxury of writing Hampstead sex romps via holidays in Italy.

Sophia's Father: You say you want more books about these people's sufferance. Why wouldn't you ask for their imagination, or their desire, or their filth, or their wrongs as well? Why wouldn't you believe in the possibility of a non-white Hampstead sex romp via Italian sands?

Round glasses: Because it's not an actualized possibility. I'd love them to have that freedom. But there are people who have to use what little voice they have teasing out the reality of their suffering until it engenders public sympathy.

This portion of the book had such an incredible impact on me. I've just never looked at art through this kind of lens. Now I will. Hamya should be proud of creating something that will live on in the readers' minds and hearts. Had I liked any of the characters, I would have enjoyed it more. But maybe that is part of the ruse.

Thank you NetGalley, Jo Hamya, and Pantheon for access to this thought-provoking ARC in exchange for my honest review.

I should have read this with a book club and not in audio, because I am sure there is much more in it than I got out of it.

The Hypocrite is about a middle-aged writer who visits a performance of his daughter's play, only to discover the play is about him and a holiday in Sicily they had together some ten years earlier. He is basically 'being Me Too'd' by her.

It's an intriguing premise about intergenerational conflict, about a men who is unwilling to admit his behavior and his parenting were not ok. But also about a privileged daughter writing about first world problems.

I found the surprising ending quite smart as it forced me to think the whole thing over again, think over the title again, and also see how I had been feeling sympathy where perhaps I shouldn't have. But overall I am left with the feeling that more could have been explored given the promising setting.

(Thanks to @PantheonBooks #gifted.) Taking place in August of 2020, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗬𝗣𝗢𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 by Jo Hamya tells the story of a long ago summer Sophia spent with her father in Sicily. After her parents divorced, Sophia had few illusions about her misogynist father, but that particular summer made clear just how awful he truly was. Years later Sophia, now a playwright, has written a scathing drama based on her author father. A play that is lightly veiled at best. The story alternates between that summer, a fraught conversation between Sophia and her mother, and her father as he watches her play and is forced to take a hard look at himself and the life he’s led.⁣
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While I appreciate the originality of a daughter taking on her father’s deep flaws, his creepy attitudes, and passé sexual mores, this book was tough for me for one main reason. I’m tired of books about toxic men. No matter whose perspective the story comes from, be it wife, lover, employee, or daughter, the story is still focused on the man. This is the third book I’ve read this summer where I found myself frustrated in the same way. First was 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘧𝘦 by Meg Wolitzer, then 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘴 by Sarah Manguso, and now 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘺𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦. Though I liked this book the most of the three, I’m just over these men getting so much attention. No matter who’s telling the story, even when he’s getting a long overdue comeuppance, it’s still about the man. Ugh! Enough! ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

I was initially drawn to this book by it cover. I love the image. I was quickly sucked into this book when I first started it and found the premise refreshing. It didn't feel heavy handed with the trauma plot line and there was something comical/original about the unveiling of this father/daughter relationship through the father's watching of the play. A quote later on in the book seems to fit this sentiment: "I'm frustrated, Sophia says, by having come up in an age where bonding over trauma seems more correct than bonding over a shared laugh".

But as the book went on, it lost the originality for me, it felt confused, and I left the book not really understanding what I read, not feeling like there were any strong takeaways.

Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, and Vintage catalog for the ARC!

Thank you to Net Galley and Pantheon for the ARC in exchange for my honest review. I was drawn in by the cover of the book and was intrigued by the premise. This book centers on Sophia, a young playwright. Her father has arrived to see her play and Sophia and her mother are having lunch nearby at the same time. Things are opening up just after the pandemic has hit. We learn that her parents are not together and the play is about a daughter and her father who are vacationing together in Sicily. The play mirrors Sophia's perception from that time and the things she has learned about her father, who is a well known author and whose behavior is far from admirable. The story jumps back in forth in time between the father's thoughts and perception of what was happening while watching the play, the lunch and the time in Sicily. After the play, all the truths come out between father and daughter and we see their alternate realities. I felt there was something missing from the story and it seemed like it was on the precipice of something really good. I did like the third person point of view and it felt more like a narrator watching all these events and telling you about it rather than an omniscient point-of-view.

I feel like I’ve read some variation of this book about 50 times in the last few years.

The theme, process, and even the setting to a lesser extent of this is, apparently, very marketable right now to female readers. Which kind of makes sense, except that we’ve seen SO much of this that anything on this topic that doesn’t being something truly fresh to the discussion just feels derivative.

There’s nothing wrong with the bones of this story, and the writing is certainly more than adequate. Perhaps if you get to this one first, then this feels like the “good” book on the topic and it’s the others that feel derivative. Although I could argue that this theme has been a bit shopworn for years and so I’m not sure why we keep publishing novels that are just another tale of “men of an older generation are trash, let’s expose them.”

The fact that this is true and needed to be said the first 50 times doesn’t leave me any less bored with books that want to reuse the theme without bringing anything original to the equation.

Utterly intriguing, requiring the reader to pay attention as it skips around in a unique structure. The "great man" here is a well known author whose daughter has fleshed out what she thinks of their relationship in the form of a play that is being performed during pandemic times. Tension, not all of it on stage, propels the central characters as well as those playing their counterparts. I was somewhat nonplused in that he was always referred to as "Sophia's father" and his ex, "Sophia's mother." By not giving them names, Jo Hamya has reduced their roles so as to only be relevant as they pertain to Sophia.

Jo Hamya, who burst onto the literary scene with “Three Rooms,” a modern take on “A Room of One’s Own,” presents a new novel with an ingenious structure: a famed Old, White and Male novelist is watching a play penned by his daughter, Sophia, that is based on a vacation that the two took in 2010 to the Aeolian Islands when Sophia was a teenager. Set during the pandemic, the assembled theater audience “cluster in groups, leaving around them empty space. They know each other’s presence is the potential for sickness or death, and so they display an exquisitely exaggerated consideration in keeping to themselves.”

The novelist, who eschews social media, is determined to give Sophia a thoughtful and original critique of her work, so he has avoided summaries of the show. He takes in the set and is astonished that Sophia could replicate the place where they enjoyed a holiday in Sisley so accurately. He soon discovers, however, that the plot does not depict him in a flattering light. He sits through the painful experience of watching an actor in his favorite purple paisley shirt womanize and act boorishly while dictating a new novel. Although he appreciates “the pure kind of meaning she has at work here, . . . the kind of method he’d always wanted to use in a novel,” he can’t help but note the inaccuracies of certain scenes: “He’d like to inform Sophia that when he did bring women home, it happened late, and lightly, and he’s sure she never witnessed it first-hand.”

While the novelist watches the matinee performance in which a version of him has been “adapted, reduced, reframed,” his ex-wife and Sophia are having lunch. Sophia wanted her mother near “to help me with how awful it feels to wait while he watches my play.” Sophia’s mother, over-imbibing and growing increasingly loud, is aggrieved that Sophia “never argued with him. You’re doing it now in the safety of your own head.”

The inevitable fallout from the play and the conditions that laid its groundwork during that long ago vacation when Sophia’s father neglected her and unwittingly sent her on some bad dates is viewed from multiple angles. Hamya has crafted an ingenious novel where all of the parties (including the bad date) are in the wrong and all are utterly sympathetic. Thank you Pantheon and Net Galley for an advance copy of this novel. It was truly a delight.

thank you pantheon and netgalley for the digital arc!!

i read 92% of this while traveling (mostly trapped in the baltimore airport…for 13 hours…moving on) and read the rest a day later once again in an airport (for a slightly more reasonable amount of time lol).

the hypocrite follows young playwright sophia who has turned her relationship with her novelist father into a play. told in separate acts, we follow sophia at lunch with her mother as she waits for her father to finish watching the play, the father's experience while watching the play, and flashbacks to the summer the two spent together in sicily which inspired sophia's writing.

i really enjoyed the process of reading this (mostly) in one stretch. i was able to get really immersed in the setting and the state of mind of the characters. jo hamya so expertly captured the generational divide between father and daughter here. as a novelist, the father has certain ideas about himself and society that he feels are fine to explore through his writing, even if outsiders would disagree. as a playwright, sophia is intent on pointing out how those very ideas shaped her understanding of her father for the worse, essentially holding up a mirror to the worst parts of her father for him and the rest of the world to see.

because of this, the hypocrite is asking a lot of interesting questions about gender, familial relationships, privacy, and artistic freedom. at the end, none of these issues are solidly answered on behalf of the characters. we as the reader are left to answer them for ourselves in the same way the characters are left to grapple with them. i think that is one of the strengths of the hypocrite: it really thrives in the moral gray area it creates.

in the home stretch, things got a little hazy for me and i couldn’t tell if it was the book or me suffering from sleep deprivation and airport anxiety. so i returned to the final chapter and confirmed: it was the book lol but i think that was intentional. the chaotic nature of the final act really mirrored the mindset of the characters at that moment. jo hamya really captured the anxiety of one's understanding of oneself being totally disrupted by outside information and how that realization can completely derail how one moves through life.

i wasn't sure how much of this would stick with me after i finished reading, but here i am a week later still thinking about it!! this definitely makes for a perfect summer read, too!!

The Hypocrite by Jo Hamya is a wonderfully written, thought-provoking story.
A poignant story that resonated with me, and kept me glued to the pages.
The writing is rich and dense with characters that were truly inspiring.
I’m definitely checking out her backlist.

Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage and Anchor for the opportunity to read this ARC.

jo hamya i was unfamiliar with your game. three rooms was a disappointment for me last year; i loved the description but not the execution. happy to say that i loved this book! i love when an author proves me wrong!

the hypocrite centers around sophia, a 20-something playwright, and her father, a successful novelist who divorced from sophia’s mother when she was young. the book is split up into acts, like a play, and follows a few different threads simultaneously:

1. sophia’s father being absolutely blindsided by the play that sophia wrote about a vacation they had taken together 10 years earlier
2. sophia and her mother having lunch together while they wait for her father to finish watching the play, which skewers his behavior on said vacation
3. flashbacks of the vacation, where sophia’s father had her transcribe his novel and allowed her to embark on some uncomfortable adventures with a boy

hamya said in an interview that with this book, she wanted to try her hand at writing “one massive gray area” and i think she definitely succeeded. both characters get their feelings hurt and hurt each other, and the reader has to sort through the thoughts and actions of each. it’s hard to say that one person is completely in the right and the other is completely in the wrong. sophia was uncomfortable with being forced into helping her father work on his novel, which she felt was full of outdated ideas. sophia’s father is uncomfortable with her play, which portrays him as a condescending womanizer who was brazen about bringing random women back to the vacation home that he was sharing with his daughter.

the thing that really blew me away with the hypocrite was the writing style. it was descriptive and atmospheric, with moments of poetic stream-of consciousness. hamya’s descriptions of the sicilian island makes this a perfect summertime read, and the complexity of the characters’ emotions are rendered in a very raw way. it was propulsive and just a kind of writing that really clicked with me, which i didn’t get with three rooms.

this book is being compared to rachel cusk, which i can see due to the clashes between generations and gender, and themes of creating art. it’s also being compared to deborah levy, and i did get hot milk vibes with the fraught family relationships and the setting. i’d also say it’s for fans of daughter by claudia dey, due to the similar family dynamics and inclusion of the theater. ultimately though, the structure and style of the book stands out to me as being quite unique. 4.5 stars!

A truly dysfunctional family. Sophia has written a play about being 18 and serving as her unnamed father's scribe when he was writing a novel. Now her father is watching it unfold. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. This packs a lot of bad behavior on his part and resentment on hers into a novel that will appeal to fans of literary fiction.

Unfortunately, this book was not for me. It is well written and explores complex family dynamics but it just didn't hold my attention.

This is fantastic. The weaving together of multiple timelines is masterfully done, while the present-day action -- all in the course of one day -- is propulsive. I read it nearly in one sitting.

Really interesting and promising concept that I think was done….not poorly? The structure and formatting of this was not for me, but I don’t think that is necessarily a fault of the author or even the book itself. If you like writing that is a bit more modern, and especially if you enjoy theater, I think this may be a perfectly fine fit for you. It was just a struggle to get into and stay engaged with for me that I never quite overcame to truly enjoy the book.

Primarily set in London during the pandemic, Sophia, 27, a playwright, and of a privileged existence (seeing a therapist after asking her novelist-father to expand his insurance so the sessions can be covered) has invited him to see the matinee of her newly opened play, the subject of which he is in the dark. He's a well-known novelist, his books about his generation's attitudes towards sex, and though he's not published a new novel in a decade, he is near to being canceled for his views, seen as a supposed misogynist. Sophia spends the hours waiting for his reaction to her play with her mother, having lunch at an Italian restaurant, claiming repeatedly that the play is not about her father. The mother-daughter relationship, too, is one of dysfunction. Though her parents are long-divorced, her mother spent some months with Sophia's father, in his house, when he sounded terrible during the early stages of the pandemic, and is angry, still, again, about the years she wasted with him, along with these more recent months. The subject of Sophia's play is the trip she and her father took to an Italian island when she was 18, several weeks spent in a borrowed house in which father-daughter time was limited to her sitting at the kitchen table and typing a new version of his novel then in progress and under a deadline, as he dictated it to her and spent his nights bringing women back to the house, thinking his daughter was asleep. A novel about a play about a novel, there are polemics, and sometimes the characters feel too constructed for their roles, but it is still very effective and intriguing reading, as we move back and forth between Sophia and her unnamed father as the narrators, slipping into the theater where he is watching himself bringing women back to the Italian house, slipping back into the restaurant where Sophia's mother, who has read the play and does not want to discuss it more with Sophia, wondering why she would write it at all. Much is covered here - family, dysfunction, gender roles, generation gaps, generational gripes, changing mores, white feminism, the nature of art, the lack of humor in Sophia's generation. Sly and biting, the evolving mores highlighted makes one wonder again and again who is the true hypocrite of the title.

Thanks to Pantheon and Netgalley for the arc.

I loved Jo Hamya's Three Rooms, and was very excited to dive into The Hypocrite, and it did not disappoint. Inventive in its structure, how the story unfolds across a single staging of the show, it's Hamya's sentences that kept me going, and how vividly the characters, son and daughter, are rendered on the page. Thanks to the publisher for the egalley.

"The Hypocrite" is a tour de force that delves deep into the intricate dynamics of a father-daughter relationship amidst a backdrop of societal change. Hamya's skillful prose brings to life the contrasting perspectives of Sophia and her father, weaving together past memories with present tensions in a way that is both thought-provoking and emotionally resonant.

From the outset, Hamya captivates with her sharp, evocative writing style, drawing readers into a narrative that unfolds with gripping intensity. The characters, particularly the father, are portrayed with such depth and complexity that one cannot help but empathize with their struggles and conflicts. Sophia's journey to confront her father through her play is both courageous and illuminating, shedding light on generational divides and the evolving nature of cultural norms.

What sets "The Hypocrite" apart is its ability to tackle weighty themes such as gender dynamics and artistic integrity with nuance and sensitivity. Hamya's narrative choices, including the integration of a play within the story, add layers of depth and intrigue, keeping readers engaged from start to finish. The novel's exploration of complex emotions and ethical dilemmas is masterfully handled, making it a compelling read for anyone interested in rich, character-driven storytelling.

Jo Hamya's writing shines in this portrait of a father and daughter at ideological and interpersonal odds. Honestly, I would describe this less as a novel about both father and daughter and more about the father's collapse. The father felt more fleshed out and we watched him deal with heightened emotions in real time, whereas I understood Sophia's grievances more in the past tense. I wondered if there was a way we could have engaged with her story in the present more than just hearing about her past in Sicily. Hamya is clearly a great writer, I enjoyed her impressive brevity and concise but evocative observations. Overall, I would recommend this to people who appreciate character studies and discussions of the impact of art.

Thanks to NetGalley and Pantheon for my ARC!