I had almost neglected to write this review, seeing as it has been so over-reviewed already, but when I saw a friend reading it and laughing all the way through, I felt the need to offer my thoughts.
All those who know Caitlin Moran know her story by now - a clever girl raised on a council estate who lands a teenage writing prize and goes on to blag a column in The Times. Moran insists that How to Build a Girl is fiction, but it is hard to distance this novel from her own reality.
But it is not the plot of this novel that I want to celebrate, rather the little snippets of hilarity that are simultaneously completely familiar and obsurely unique. The teenage self-consiousness that convinces Johanna Morrigan she is singularly responsible for her family's poverty. The misreading of social convention that makes dressing solely in black seem like the best idea, and her mother's concern that she is acting like a dark crow that has decended upon the household. The naivety that allows her to have so much sex and so few orgasims.
Whether or not you like that fact that Moran seems to only write about one thing, you cannot deny the fact that she is honest, realistic and frankly hilarious.
This unexpected treat I found in the children's section of Cardiff Central Libraries, during a day I spent "researching" the resources there. (I was finding materials for story time and got distracted in the graphic section.) Superhero Girl is a completely terrible superhero, especially compared to her brother, who takes on the world and handles the fame of his status with ease and composure.
And yet it is Superhero Girl that I would like to be - terrible with romance, impoverished by lack of income, and pretty useless at maintaining her secret identity. Her missions are somewhat mediocre - rescuing cats from trees, placating her overzealous mother, etc. - but that makes it all the more brilliant when her arch-nemesis finds himself chosing between continuing in a career of evil and a more conventional profession.
This comic stemmed from a blog, which you can find here: http://superherogirladventures.blogspot.co.uk/; and author Faith Erin Hicks is very vocal and entertaining on social media. She is definitely worth following.
The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting Holly Bourne London, Usborne, 2014, 448p It has taken me a little time to come to terms with my thoughts on this book due to the sensitivity of the content. The Manifesto on How to be Interesting is a novel I want to recommend, but it is loaded with issues that should be approached with caution. Bree is an academic, creative student. She is a writer. But when she presents her manuscript to her favourite teacher, his reaction disappoints. So Bree decides to embark on a mission to become popular, in the hope that a more interesting life will produce more interesting literature. The process is relatively easy for Bree - her parents are wealthy, and her father works with a make up manufacturer, meaning she has instant access to treats to share with her new, popular friends. All it takes is some more fashionable clothes to make everyone realise Bree is fairly attractive, and she has the personality to match. Along the way, her relationship with her best friend suffers; but soon, her crush is taking more of an interest and people around school talk about her in a different way. Bourne's novel is a little bit Mean Girls, but with added complexity. For one, Bree's crush is directed towards her English teacher; and secondly, Bree self-harms. Such issues are not easy to tackle in young adult literature - the fantasy element of fiction means many characters who self-harm are blessed with a moment of epiphany when they turn their lives around; many real girls are not so lucky. The underlying message of the book is to encourage the reader to be happy in who they are, and to acknowledge that we all suffer from lapses in confidence, even the most popular kids in school. But the challenge that I am left with is how to talk about these matters with my students - not every life has such a happy ending.
Water Born Rachel Ward Frome, Chicken House, 2014, 275p
I have been saving this book, knowing that I would love it. It is the sequel to The Drowning and comes from the author of Numbers, all of which I have devoured. Nic is a passionate swimmer, but her overprotective father drives her a little mad. She can't understand his fear about water, especially when she starts to become more successful in the pool. Somehow, she finds the inner strength and focus needed to beat the best of the girls in her club; but as time goes on, the voice in her head starts to scare her. This disembodied voice is not hers, and when she turns to her father, she finds more questions than answers. Amongst other things, she finds a list on her dad's computer of girls who look just like her who have drowned.
It has been some time since I read The Drowning, meaning I had forgotten some of the detail. What I love about Water Born is that it is a brilliant stand alone book, as well as a dramatic continuation of Ward's most recent series. The story is haunting and modern, a perfect contemporary horror story. I can see similarities with the Numbers trilogy, but the genius Rachel Ward has found clever new ways of throwing the reader off the scent and allowing the mystery to unfold very gradually. All the action seems to happen within a few final pages, and you are gripped throughout. I am definitely not patient enough to wait for the next one!
Slated Teri Terry London, Orchard, 2012, 439p I am concerned that I am going through a reluctant reader phase. By this, I mean that I am struggling to engage with many books - I only seem to be satisfied reading poetry and a little adult fiction - so I apologise that my blog has not had much variety recently. In an attempt to get out of this funk, I started Slated before the weekend. Kyla's memory has been wiped. She lives in a society where individuals who conflict with the law have their memories removed, and are given a second chance. Kyla is only sixteen, but the government claims she was a terrorist. She struggles to relearn the basics, like tying shoe laces and crossing the road. But she loves art, and through her drawing, she can put her nightmares on paper and hopefully find some answers. This book has sat on my dresser for several days, and I have made little progress. It takes a lot to make me give up on a book, but the pace of Slated was too slow for my liking, especially as there are two sequels. Like many dystopian novels, I like the concept - the idea that nothing is what as it seems, and Kyla must struggle to uncover the truth. Unfortunately, I think there have been so many novels of this vein recently that I can probably predict exactly what is going to happen - the lack of intrigue meant I eventually had to concede defeat and try something new, in the hope of moving on from this rut of being unable to read any teen or YA fiction.
The Future of Us Jay Asher & Carolyn Mackler London, Simon & Schuster, 2012, 356p I didn't expect to enjoy this book as much as I did! I thought it would be yet another young adult romance, but it is so well written and clever that I breezed through it over a busy week. Josh and Emma have lived next door to each other for years, and have always been best friends. But recently, their relationship changed, when Josh misread the signals and Emma rejected him. It's 1996 and when Emma installs AOL on her new computer, she gets more than she had bargained for. She finds a website that she assumes is a prank, full of information about what seems to be her future self. But maybe it's not just a prank, and maybe Emma has stumbled upon a way to see her future. Josh and Emma have very different approaches to dealing with the power they gain from being able to see what is happening in fifteen years time. Josh doesn't want to meddle with things too much, but online he learns that his future involves one of the most beautiful girls in school, and he finds the bravery to make a move. Emma, however, seems unsatisfied with every possible future she creates for herself, and finds fooling around with the tiniest present detail can have a huge impact in years to come. The novel unfolds over the course of just a few days, with Emma and Josh learning a lot about themselves in a short space of time. I love the concept of this novel - I remember life before Facebook, but many young readers might not; and in spanning the generations, The Future of Us appeals to a wide range of readers. And with having two protagonists, cleverly written by Asher and Mackler, both with different approaches to this new-found information, the reader can speculate on how they might react if they could see what was going to come of their lives in fifteen years.
Eleanor & Park Rainbow Rowell London, Orion, 2012, 325p
Eleanor & Park has been in high demand amongst many of my students - of a similar vein as John Green's novels, it tells the tale of two misfits trying to go unnoticed, who can't help but notice each other. Park is a quiet, comic-book reading boy. He isn't bullied, but you couldn't say he is particularly popular. Eleanor is new, and on her first day, finds herself sat next to Park on the bus. They travel to and from school together every day in silence, until Park notices that Eleanor is reading his comics over his shoulder. They start to share some of the loves and hates, until they realise they love each other. It is clear why Rainbow Rowell has become incredibly popular - she appeals to that part of every one of us that feels uncomfortable in social situations. I would have loved this as a teenager, but experience has made me a cynic. Romeo and Juliet is referenced as the kids' English books, and the themes of that classic are reflected in Eleanor & Park. They quickly fall deeply for each other, and like first love, cannot imagine life without each other. Park's parents are mostly supportive, but Eleanor has a difficult home situation, with an aggressive and drunk stepfather. Unfortunately, just like I couldn't get around Romeo and Juliet killing themselves, I struggled to engage with the idea that Eleanor and Park's first loves would possibly be their last and only. Nevertheless, Eleanor & Park is an easy and engaging read, and it feels very contemporary, reflecting the current trend towards a reminiscent adoration of past popular culture (the story is set in 1986 so bands like The Smiths are prominent!).
Trouble Non Pratt London, Walker, 2014, 381p Trouble has been celebrated as one of the best contemporary novels about teen pregnancy, but I felt like it was about so much more than that. With drama between friends, romance through school, and the moments of tragedy, you could almost forget that the book centred around a growing baby. Hannah is fifteen and pregnant. She has a bit of a reputation around school, and rumours immediately spread. She expects her best friend, Katie, to stand by her, but when Katie starts dating Rex, she becomes part of the most popular group in school and drops Hannah. Aaron is new to the area, with a mysterious past and a determination to move on. Somehow, he ends up friends with Hannah, and soon finds himself offering to be her fake baby daddy. He's convinced there is more to her than the popular kids see, and his faith in her allows the development of a beautiful and strong friendship. The novel plays out over the course of Hannah's pregnancy, with elements of the truth being revealed as the story unfolds. For the first half of the book, you can only speculate about who the father is, allowing your mind to play through every scenario, even the worst cases. Meanwhile, although it is clear Aaron is haunted by his past, you can only guess at what happened to bring him into Hannah's life. Their friendship is all about compromise, which is what the best real life friendships are about. Hannah and Aaron are similar in many ways, but also incredibly different, and in situations where all she wants to do is talk, he sometimes finds himself bottling up. But their trust is inspiring, and, with the support of family and other friends, they make it through the trials of the pregnancy. Trouble is about so many of the challenges facing young people today - peer pressure, sexuality, bullying (especially cyber bullying), conflict with parents, the expectations of school and society - that the pregnancy plot almost a subplot. But that is what I liked about this book - that it was about so much more than what you see on the cover.
I was unexpectedly impressed and wowed by this novel. Having struggled to concentrate on reading recently, I did not think a book about a teen misfit in high school would be what got me back on track. Having spent all summer trying to learn how to be cool, Elise is disappointed when her first day back at school goes terribly wrong. She has the right clothes, knows what to say about music, and is sure this will be the year she makes friends, but after just one day back she is ready to take her own life. The second chapter of this book will haunt me for some time, and I remain unsure how I feel about it. Elise resorts to self-harming, as her social rejection becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. Today, I spent this morning chatting with my school counselor, and have given her the book to read - I want to share this book with my students, but feel under prepared about how to talk to young readers about it, as the scene was unbelievably heartbreaking and yet shockingly common. And I am undecided on how I feel about the outcome and resolution of Elise's depression. Jenna Sales skips through the six months following Elise's suicide attempt, briefly noting that her parents had started to keep a closer eye on her. When the story picks up, Elise is still unhappy at school, though she has two girls to sit with at lunch time (both also rather socially awkward, they are wannabees, and follow the popular crowd, longing to be part of it). At night, Elise walks through the streets, taking advantage of the time to herself. One night, she stumbles upon an underground club, and though only fifteen, is admitted to a world she never knew existed - where the clothes hark back to better times and the room is filled with old rock classics. Her passion for music leads her to being noticed, and the DJ takes her under his wing to show her the ropes. The challenge with writing a book about depression is that a novel always has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But depression doesn't always have an end. And young girls and boys don't always stumble upon their dream social scene in a warehouse in the early hours of the morning. Perhaps it is okay just to know that books like this get the conversation started, and help us acknowledge the existence of depression.
Breathe Sarah Crossan London, Bloomsbury, 2012, 371p I have been trying to read this for the last few days, with little success. I am unsure if it is because it is the holidays and I have switched off, or because the book isn't all I wanted it to be, but I have not gotten very far. One hundred pages in, the characters are introduced and the plot is established, but I am not gripped. Alina, part of a rebel group, is forced to escape the city in which she has always lived. Here, oxygen is a gift, divided according to a strict social divide, which leaves many without enough air to lead a normal life. The state is catching up with the rebel group, and Alina must get away. On the city borders, she is helped by a Premium boy, one of the rich and fortunate, and together they escape into the unknown outside the Pod. Already, the path of their story seems clear, paralleling many of the tropes of the multitude of other dystopian novels currently available. On reading the blurb, I loved the concept of this novel, but the initial pace felt slow and I could not engage with the characters and their trials. Perhaps I just need a holiday and will return to it in the future.
Looking for Alaska John Green London, HarperCollins, 2006, 263p
John Green's style is becoming increasingly popular - the awkward young protagonist meets the girl / boy of his / her dreams, and their soul mate is charmed by their strange quirks and skinny frame. Romance ensues, with elements of uncertainty and a comic best friend helping bring the couple together. A happy ending is not guaranteed, but the reader is promised a slither of hope as they read the final pages. Miles falls for Alaska the moment he meets her. She is beautiful, curvy and confident; he is lanky, awkward, and can recall the last words of almost anyone. Alaska has a boyfriend who she professes to love, so Miles must settle for being her friend. He has moved schools, looking for the Great Perhaps - that opportunity to do more with his life than he had previously been experiencing. He makes friends, pulls pranks, and gets drunk, but his love for Alaska never deteriorates. Looking for Alaska is a sweet and zany romance. It's target audience - those teenage misfits that so love John Green - will find quotes to treasure and moments to relate to. Initially, I found myself engrossed with Miles Halter - I understood his low self-esteem and satisfaction with his own company, conflicting with his desire to find a group with which to fit in. Unlike many high school romances, John Green does not transform his characters in any profound or physical sense; essentially, they find ways to love themselves through friendship (and often some mild drinking). But as with many other John Green novels I have read, I identified more with the comedy sidekick than the main protagonist. The Colonel, as he has named himself, is a trailer park boy with brains, awarded a scholarship into the academically aspirational Culver Creek. He is resentful to many of the posh kids at school, but makes himself the class clown, determined to get thrown out of every basketball game for causing a ruckus. And there was also Takumi, who plays a more quiet supporting role. These two are the glue which bring Miles and Alaska together and bind the whole story. It is clear why John Green's writing has become so popular; and, like The Fault in Our Stars, Looking for Alaska is shortly going to be made into a movie. However, I do find that I need long gaps between reading his novels - the formula is so perfect it becomes predictable, and I need something completely different for my next read.
Say Her Name James Dawson London, Hot Keys, 2014, 287p
Another of the books I have been meaning to read for some time, Say Her Name, is gem from James Dawson, with whom I had the pleasure of recently spending a few days on a First Story residential. A Halloween dare seems like a good idea to Bobbie and her best friend Naya, until they discover that the legend of Bloody Mary might be more than just a story. In the five days following the night when they chant her name into a mirror, Naya and Bobbie are haunted by the ghost of the dead girl, and history suggests there is little chance of survival. James Dawson brings the classic tropes of Gothic literature into the twenty first century, redesigning the thriller genre for the age of technology and teenagers. Bobbie and Naya board in an old school, but they are modern, clever girls, not easily scared by ghost stories and dark corridors. And yet, Dawson creates a terrifying environment in which the drama plays out, with Mary growing stronger and stronger as the girls try to find a way to help the ghost rest in peace. There are hundreds of different versions of the Bloody Mary legend, and Bobbie points out that there are teenagers chanting her name all over the world in search of a bit of Halloween fun. But what is different about this scenario is that, as Bobbie and Naya discover, the real Mary went to their school, and her death still haunts the old school. And alongside the haunting terror is a romance - it is not just Naya and Bobbie who chant into the mirror, but the handsome local Caine is brave enough to give it a try, too. As they try to understand if there is any hope to save themselves, Bobbie and Caine come closer and closer, and Bobbie cannot stop herself falling for the gorgeous young man. Say Her Name is a fast-paced thriller that I could not put down - I had to find out if the threesome survived the curse of Bloody Mary, and there are no guarantees with a horror like this...
It has taken me a little longer to read this final book in the Divergent series than the previous two. When I started it, I jumped right in, eager to find out what happens to Tris and Tobias, but I found this book slower paced and less gripping than Divergent and Insurgent. It's hard to write about this novel without giving anything away. Let's just say this: Tris, Tobias and their friends learn that the world they have known is not what it seems. As the city divides - people choosing whether to defend the system of factions or battle for factionless society, it becomes clear that the city is only a small part of a greater plan, and the young characters begin to see themselves as tiny elements of a much greater world. Here, everything becomes a little science fiction, which is where I lost my connection with the series. Where I had previously loved the dystopian action - pages filled with fights and Tris' inner turmoil - the final book in this series felt like it got too big for itself. It felt a little like the Resident Evil books, where each new story reveals a darker and larger conspiracy. Veronica Roth clearly had a big plan for her series, but this novel did not seem to fulfil her ambitions. Allegiant is written from the points of view of both Tobias and Tris, switching between the two narrators chapter by chapter and revealing Tobias' inner most thoughts and fears, particularly as their romance developed. Unfortunately, although Veronica Roth has created a clear and complex character in Tobias, I did not find his narrative all that distinct from Tris' and sometimes had to flick back to the start of a chapter to work out who was talking. Apparently, Roth has written some mini-chapters from Tobias' viewpoint previously, and I would be interested to read these and see if they are any better. When I spoke to the students at school about this book, those who hadn't read it were excited by the final novel in their nre favourite series, and those who had read it convinced me it got better at the end. Admittedly, as the revelations unfolded and the action built up, I rediscovered my love and respect for Tris and her companions (increasingly, the other female characters became intriguing, particularly Christina). But I cannot ignore my disappointment at the turn this series took towards science fiction and that it just felt a little too much like dragging myself through tar.
Hadley is flying from New York to London to attend her father's wedding. He left her and her mother for a job in Oxford several years ago, and has since met someone new, someone Hadley has never met and is more than reluctant to get to know. Hadley doesn't want to go to London, but she is frustrated when she misses her flight by just four minutes, leaving her to wait in the airport for a later flight. She will arrive in London less than two hours before the wedding, and is unsure she will even make it on time.
In a strange twist of fate, she ends up sitting next to a handsome young Brit on her flight, who chats away and distracts her from her claustrophobia. He is charming and clever, and Hadley finds herself wishing this moment could last longer than just the flight.
The novel is written in the present tense, with the chapter headings demonstrating the time difference between New York and London. By the end of the book, it is hardly surprising that Hadley and Oliver are completely exhausted, having been awake for more than twenty four hours. But the present tense keeps you in the situation, sharing their tiredness and emotional instability as they try to navigate their feelings and their families.
Despite the synopsis seeming soppy and romantic, I rather enjoyed indulging in this novel. The relationship between Oliver and Hadley is whirlwind and optimistic, despite the obvious barriers, but the novel is also filled with complex familial relationships, adding depth to the characters and their love.
Hadley is angry at her father for leaving her, but surprisingly open minded once she arrives in London, and mature enough to let her Dad and his new wife into her life. Oliver, whilst a happy and warm character, seems to carry some sadness with him, hinting at resentment towards his father. But Hadley is so preoccupied with her own concerns that she does not take the time to really understand Oliver until it is perhaps too late...
Insurgent Veronica Roth London, HarperCollins, 2012, 525p Good and evil are never as clearly defined as they first seem. Divergent convinced me that the Dauntless were the best of the factions - the brave and noble warrior types - but Insurgent shows that their aggression comes at a cost, and perhaps we all need a little of every faction to be balanced individuals. Following the devastation inflicted by the Erudite at the end of the last novel, Tris and the Dauntless find themselves lost and divided - some have allied with the information-hungry Erudite whilst others have gone into hiding, taking refuge with the kind Amity faction. The Amity are reluctant to take sides, but are put in a difficult situation when threatened by the Erudite, knowing full well they are in a dependent situation. The Dauntless traitors continue to spread the Erudite simulation serum through the other factions, preparing an army of mindless drones. Tris suspects there might be more to the Erudite mission than power - old Abnegation leaders have implied that the Erudite are keeping a secret and that all the factions deserve to know the truth. Throughout Insurgent, Tris battles with depression - she feels like she has lost everyone she loves and is haunted by guilt over what she did during the heat of battle. Try as he might, Tobias cannot seem to do the right thing, and Tris finds herself building up walls and keeping secrets. Tris could have easily become an annoying, moany character in this novel, but Veronica Roth is a talented and engaging writer who maintains the reader's sympathy during the hardest of times. I absolutely devoured this book - I was impressed to find that it can be added to that short list of brilliant sequels along with Toy Story 2 and the second Godfather movie. Now the characters are well developed and the direction seems clear, the novel flows at a fast pace, with drama at every turn, and with a complete disregard for conventional the good vs evil dichotomy. Nothing is as it seems.
Siege Sarah Mussi London, Hachette, 2013, 307p I encountered Sarah Mussi last week at the SLA Conference in Manchester, where she discussed with a panel of writers the concept of the dystopian novel. It was an enlightening 'author meet' for two reasons: partly because it introduced me to some new YA novels; but mainly due to the exploration of the definition of dystopian fiction - how does it differ from science fiction?; does the ending need to leave the reader with hope?; how close to our contemporary reality are some of these dystopian worlds?
Siege has been sat on my To Read shelf at work for months - it is a big shelf, and I with brilliant new novels arriving every day, sometimes books sit there for rather too long. Finally, meeting Mussi prompted me to pick up this novel and explore what had intrigued me in the first place.
A group of teenagers, calling themselves the Eternal Knights, have taken the YOU OP 78 Academy hostage. Fighting for her life, Leah has taken refuge in the ceilings, but she knows she cannot survive up there for long. The school is on Lock Down - no one can get in or out - and the battery of her comm (phone) is running low, leaving any attempts to make contact with the world outside futile.
Siege is a gripping, dangerous novel, and Leah is a strong, independent protagonist. Even though a male counterpart is introduced, leaving potential for a romance, most of the novel consists of Leah alone, trying to survive and striving to save her peers.
Much of her battle comes from her guilt - she is scared her brother, Connor, might be involved, and wonders if she could have done more to prevent this. But as time goes on, Leah realises that there is more to this siege than the failed relationship between herself and her brother - there are bigger factors at play.
Sarah Mussi's dystopian world (if I can call it that) is not far from the world in which we live. Leah and the students at her school are considered to be a drain on society - they are rushed through their education and forced into Volunteer Programs, in the hope that they can give something back and reduce their detrimental impact upon the country's resources. There is no social mobility - the lives of the students at these academies are set in stone.
No wonder this siege has come about, Leah thinks. The youth are disillusioned and angry, so they take up weapons to fight for their rights. But it seems weird to Leah that these Eternal Knights are made up of some of the most stupid kids in school - kids who couldn't track down weapons or organise themselves this efficiently. So there must be some bigger power involved...
Divergent Veronica Roth London, HarperCollins, 2011, 487p I have been pestered for weeks by students who wanted me to read this novel. Admittedly, I have been meaning to get around it since before the movie trailer came out, so as I read it, I pictured the established cast as the characters, something I usually wish to avoid. Tris lives in a world where people are not defined by race or age or sexuality, but by their characteristics. Society is divided into five factions: Abnegation, where one lives a life of abstinence from all luxuries, characterised by selflessness; Amity, for kind individuals who focus on friendship; Candor, for those who are honest and frank; Dauntless, for the brave and fearless; and Erudite, where the scholars find themselves. Tris is born into Abnegation, but the system recognises the potential for people to feel disconnected from their faction; so in their sixteenth year, individuals can take an Aptitude Test and can choose to change factions. Tris' Aptitude results are inconclusive, suggesting she has the characteristics of more than one faction - she is Divergent. At the Choosing Ceremony, Tris selects Dauntless, and is thrown into a brutal training routine. She finds herself in danger, both from within the Dauntless sector, where competition for membership is fierce, and from across the factions - her results are causing suspicion amongst some of the leaders, who are concerned that the Divergent will rebel against the system, contradicting it's structure and history. Although Divergent has not received as much hype as the Hunger Games books, they are becoming quietly popular amongst teen readers. Tris is a great role model - honest, brave and selfless, a true Divergent. Opposite her is Four, one of the trainers in the Dauntless camp, a man who makes Tris' heart flutter - he is secretive and mysterious, but the way he slowly let's Tris in to his life is heart-wrenchingly romantic. The structure of the factions gives young readers something to associate themselves with - for example, I am pretty confident that I would be Erudite (as I am sure many Librarians would agree), though I hope I am not quite as evil as the leaders of this faction... Like the best dystopian novels, this structured society subtly reflects some of the issues of our own lives - like the fact that so many communities are fractured by labels, splitting people into self-perpetuating 'types' and turning them against each other. Now I just have to wait for the students to return the next book in the series to the Library!
The Bunker Diary Kevin Brooks London, Penguin, 2013, 259p *Possible spoiler alert* It is hard to write this blog without giving too much away - and I desperately do not want to give anything away, since I was given a little warning regarding how haunting and spine-chilling it is and I worry that too much information might detract from the tension of the story. When Linus wakes up in an abandoned bunker, he is angry at himself for being tricked by a blind man who kidnapped him. He finds himself alone, but, with five empty rooms around him, suspects that this won't be for long. The only way in or out is a lift, which comes up and down at set times through the day. As time goes by, more people are sent down to join him, each from vastly different backgrounds, each having been tricked in strange and well-planned ways. And they are being watched; there is no way out. Together, the captives work out how to communicate with their captor, but every attempt at escape seems wrought with punishment. They struggle to be civil with one another, especially in the context of this unusual situation. As the characters sink into desperation and depression, the reader is trapped with Linus in this underground dungeon. I have not read any Kevin Brooks before, though I have always been intrigued by the packaging of his novels. In fitting with the dark trend running through this year's Carnegie list, The Bunker Diary is a strong contender, full of mystery, tragedy and a slither of hope.
To see the rest of my Carnegie reviews, click here.
Every Day David Levithan London, Random House, 2012, 371p
I first encountered David Levithan via John Green, as they co-wrote Will Grayson, Will Grayson. One of the key themes in the story of Will was identity, a subject Levithan has explored again in Every Day. A wakes up each morning in a new body. A's life has been like this for as long as he can remember, and every day he must access the memories of the body A is within and wander through life as other people. But one day, A meets a girl he can't help but fall for and finds it impossible to resist going back again and again, taking with the bodies along for an unexpected ride with dangerous consequences. Since the first body in which we meet A is male, I struggled to not think of A as male, but it was clear that Levithan is trying to challenge gender and sexuality norms by creating a character who defies all standard identifiers. One day, he will meet with Rhiannon as a football jock, and the next day as a timid studious girl, but each time he still loves Rhiannon unconditionally. And Rhiannon must strive to see through A's external appearance to the person beneath. What I love about this novel is Levithan's complete disregard for labels. Each body that A adopts is completely different - academic student, burnout, athletic boy, lesbian, religious fanatic, overweight teen, homosexual, stoner - meaning the weight of labels is challenge on every level. In places, this felt a little forced, as A never embodied individuals with similar characteristics, and I felt that surely a life like this (however unusual) would involve some boring days of being in people with similar characteristics - but I understand what Levithan is trying to do. In implanting one spirit in so many variant vessels, Every Day demonstrates the prominence of socially constructed difference. t made me think about the way we relate to people based on their looks, their dress and their background.
All the Truth That's In Me Julie Berry Dorking, Templar, 2013, 266p
When Judith returns home, her tongue cut out and the last two years a mystery to all around her, she is outcast by her society and her family, subject to looks of horror and pity. As the town talks, there is only one person she wishes to listen to her - Lucas, the boy she has always loved.
Set in the early American settlements, All the Truth That's In Me is a haunting, dark novel about abduction and young sexuality. Judith is victimised by those in her town, who assume her kidnapping was of a sexual nature; and she is continuously haunted by the feeling that men only want her as a silent object. As the story unfolds, it becomes apparent that there is more mystery to Judith's story than the townsfolk have presumed.
The novel is told in first person by Judith, who often narrates as if she is speaking directly to Lucas, pleading for his sympathy and understanding. The chapters are very short - some only a sentence long - meaning reading is easy and swift.
I found myself quite caught up in the romance - Judith's longing is heartbreakingly beautiful, as she sits on the sidelines of Lucas' life. And she is a surprisingly strong protagonist, despite her many obstacles. She is brave and strong, fighting for justice and protecting the man she loves. If anything, Lucas seems weak in comparison.
I am finding this year's Carnegie list to be surprisingly dark, especially compared to the variety of the 2013 list - many of the books would not be typically suitable for teenage readers - yet I am enjoying the journey of shadowing.
To read more of my reviews of the 2014 Carnegie shortlist, click here.
