No, not at all. There’s no right way to feel when reading a book. I wanted to muddle those emotions—the joking moment of the egging of Monica’s car followed by the line from Hazel about how she never took another picture of him, for instance—because they’re all muddled together in life (or at least in my experience of life) and they don’t follow like a traditional emotional arc.
(This is a stupid example of what I mean, but I remember for instance the first time my college girlfriend and I exchanged I-love-yous, the same day my computer died with all these sorely needed files on it. And this magical day became the worst day ever, except that I was still really happy, except that I also really needed that paper about Toni Morrison, etc.)