When The Notebook came out in the summer of 2004, I was entering my freshman year of high school. I was young, impressionable, obsessed with true love and second chances, and saw this movie on opening weekend with a group of girlfriends who cried as often as I did. I walked out of the theater, still wiping tears from my innocent little eyes, thinking that The Notebook might be the most romantic thing I'd ever seen. For the rest of the summer, I was obsessed with Noah and Ellie's incredible love story, so much so that I even asked my mom to take me to the bookstore so I could get my hands on the source material. But then I actually read the Nicholas Sparks novel, and without Ryan Gosling's dreamy face and gorgeous body to distract me, I quickly realized that the movie's romantic hero, my romance A hero, not a hero at all. In fact, I think we can finally talk about how Noah in The Notebook is actually a complete monster.
Look, I know this may not be the most popular opinion. If you’re like me and have watched the movie version of “ The Notebook” with Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling First of all, it's likely to blow your mind, and how could it not? On the surface, it's a sweet love story about a second romance between two charming characters who you certainly wouldn't mind watching. But beneath Gosling's washboard abs and McAdam's charming smile lurks a more problematic narrative. After reading Sparks’ original novel and growing up a bit, I realized Noah for what he really was—an obsessive weirdo who loved dramatic, unwanted action and couldn’t take no for an answer—I I can't stop thinking about my original interpretation of The Notebook and why I was so wrong to believe it was a true love story.
The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, $12, Amazon
In the movie version of The Notebook , we meet Ellie and Noah during the summer and they fall in love. From the beginning, Noah was obsessed with Ellie and pestered her to go out with him every day. When she refused multiple times, he persisted, even warning her that he was done asking. Then, at a carnival, while Allie was on a date with another guy, Noah climbed onto the Ferris wheel and threatened to jump off the wheel if Allie didn't agree to go out with him. She clearly agreed, not wanting to be responsible for the death of a man she barely knew, which marked the first of many grandiose and completely inappropriate moves.
At first glance, and from a distance, Noah's actions appear to be a grand romantic gesture that will fascinate many. But a closer look reveals them for what they are: coercion, harassment and emotional abuse. Not only does Noah continually try to pressure Ellie into dating him, but his threats to the Ferris wheel reinforce the toxic belief that when men behave badly, dangerously, or irresponsibly, they love (or are attracted to) Women are to blame. He essentially blackmails Ellie into dating him, a common trope in movies and books that believe in the "it's all about the chase" ideology that puts women in extremely uncomfortable and even dangerous situations.
In Sparks' original novel, Ellie and Noah's beginnings didn't unfold the same way. In fact, there's far less drama in the book: Noah and Ellie have normal interactions when they meet and spend the entire evening at the carnival, no Ferris wheel stunt required. From that sweet, carefree night, a stable and genuine relationship was born, one without all the fighting, crying and jealousy you see on screen. So why did Hollywood decide to turn a seemingly innocent love story into one filled with volatility, abuse and obsession? As industry insiders say, drama sells, but it also reinforces dangerous stereotypes about gender dynamics and power structures in romantic relationships.
The film adaptation of The Notebook doesn't stop tainting the original carnival love story, not even close. In the film, after Noah finally convinces Ellie to go on a date with him — again threatening to hurt himself and possibly others below by jumping off a damn Ferris wheel — he learns that their relationship is messy and can Say, this is not surprising. At least. They often fight, quarrel openly in front of others, and even get into physical altercations in the street. In depicting their conflicts, the film pairs each fight with upbeat music and subsequent shots of their reconciliation, so the fights look romantic. The film once again reinforces the dangerous notion that relationships are stronger if the people in them have been through hell and back together. It teaches viewers that like so many other toxic relationships on screen or in books, strong love, true love, is born out of conflict.
That doesn’t seem to be the message Sparks’ original novel was trying to convey. The author does not focus on or even mention the differences between the two, but instead focuses on the growth and maturity of their love. No screaming matches in the street, no egg rolls shoved in each other’s faces, no arguments. Even the breakup was drama-free. It wasn’t a passionate, tear-filled fight, but a friendly farewell. You know, like a mature couple. However, at the hands of Hollywood, the breakup was rough, painful, and honestly hard to watch, as neither Noah nor Ellie came off as a bigger person at the time of their breakup.
Although these two major changes make the movie appear much worse than the novel, both the book and the movie have two extremely problematic moments: Noah's insistent letter to Ellie, and his decision to live without Ellie case to buy her dream house. Again, at first glance these emotional actions may seem sweet, thoughtful, and romantic, but at their core is an unhealthy and unnecessary obsession that Noah has with Ellie. Even though they've broken up, Noah can't let go of Ellie.
For a year, he wrote to her nonstop—every day in the movie, every month in the book—and got no response. Of course, it eventually emerged that Ellie's mother had hidden the letters from her, but that wasn't a fact Noah realized. All he knows is that despite his many attempts to communicate with his ex, he has not responded. In other words, he was harassing her and forcing his way into her life without her permission. Essentially, he's every hookup or ex who's ever slipped into your DMs without notice, and we all know these people are total nuisances.
Despite years of separation, Noah buys the house where he and Ellie first had sex and renovates it into her dream home. For months, he'd been hard at work on the property, fixing it up, thinking only of Ellie, a girl he'd dated years ago and hadn't spoken to since. If that's not an unhealthy obsession, I don't know what is. Maybe it seems like a sweet gesture in hopes that your so-called true love will come back, but in reality, it's just another way for Noah to try to manipulate Ellie's emotions, and it works. In the book and movie, news of the completion of his house brings Ellie back to Noah. Was this his plan all along? It's hard to say, but what is clear is that Noah had a very clear pattern of toxic behavior where he bullied, cheated, and abused his way into Ellie's life. I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like true love to me.
So why do I think The Notebook is a perfect love story? I think it was a combination of my naiveté when I first saw this movie and Hollywood's constant reinforcement of dangerous romantic stereotypes that put women in danger. I was so ready to experience it because it was simply romantic. But now that I'm older, now that I've read the source material and understood the nitty-gritty of the story, it's time we faced the facts: Noah Calhoun was not an ideal romantic protagonist, not even close. In the film adaptation of The Notebook , he is a toxic, dangerous, emotionally abusive man, while in the novel, he is a possessive, obsessive lover. The truth is, romance novels have a long history of "heroes" actually attacking, abusing, or harassing their heroines, and The Notebook is just one of many examples. The time to talk about them is long overdue.