I should make a confession, I love Young Adult literature. Some of the best books I’ve read in recent years have been a part of that genera. The Book Thief made me weep. It was beautifully constructed and the characters stuck with me. I find myself washing dishes and having my thoughts drift towards Rudy and Liesel. Markus Zusak made them almost real. It was breathtaking.
Jellicoe Road tries to do what Zusak did, but fails. Marchetta’s characters end up being cartoonish examples of what adults think teen tragedy is. It’s one thing to have a teen character have PTSD. It’s another to have her have PTSD, abandonment issues, survivor’s guilt, asthma, witness a suicide, have her abandoned a second time, and then make her responsible for keeping her suicidal boyfriend, that she doesn’t really like, alive. Wait, then she likes him. Then she hates him. Then she falls in love with him. It’s hot and cold running moody teenager. She’s also responsible for watching over a small cadre of arsonists that live at her school. The book glosses over that point, but if someone was going to burn me alive, a daily footlocker search for Bic lighters may be in order. Lastly, there’s a serial killer element in this book that seems so forced that I feel like the author put it in just to mess with me. This book did too much, too fast, and zipped past the point where I was supposed to care about most of it. I audibly groaned several times when I was reading it
Look, I realize I’m being harsh. I realize this may seem a tad unfair to the author, the character, and the book in general. However, if I am going to read a book about teen tragedy I need to have a reason to be emotionally invested in the story. Life of Pi gave me teen tragedy and magical realism. It also made me wonder if the story actually happened. It’s not beyond the edges of reality that a young person, who’s faced with an unimaginable series of events, would create and live in his own fantasy world to get though it. Jellicoe Road doesn’t do that. It tries to be a reflection of reality and ends up being a fun house mirror.
If anyone wants to come a long and point out where I’m horribly wrong, I’m totally off base, and that I’m an idiot; I welcome it. I’ll take descending opinions about this book. In fact, I’d honestly love to see some. I tend to get wrapped up in my criticisms and miss crucial points.
Next up is One of Our Thursdays Is Missing. My love for Jasper Fford is boundless. I want to make a mini-Fford and put him in my pocket. Lets just say... I’m excited.
*** Note: In my previous blog post I referred to my husband as an asthmatic, glasses wearing nerd that plays World of Warcraft on the weekends. He got mad at me, and wants me to point out that he was in the military and works out once a day. He’s also like me to tell you that he hasn’t played World of Warcraft in three (!!!) weeks. The man cleans out our litter boxes so, I have real motivation to make him happy.
Jellicoe Road tries to do what Zusak did, but fails. Marchetta’s characters end up being cartoonish examples of what adults think teen tragedy is. It’s one thing to have a teen character have PTSD. It’s another to have her have PTSD, abandonment issues, survivor’s guilt, asthma, witness a suicide, have her abandoned a second time, and then make her responsible for keeping her suicidal boyfriend, that she doesn’t really like, alive. Wait, then she likes him. Then she hates him. Then she falls in love with him. It’s hot and cold running moody teenager. She’s also responsible for watching over a small cadre of arsonists that live at her school. The book glosses over that point, but if someone was going to burn me alive, a daily footlocker search for Bic lighters may be in order. Lastly, there’s a serial killer element in this book that seems so forced that I feel like the author put it in just to mess with me. This book did too much, too fast, and zipped past the point where I was supposed to care about most of it. I audibly groaned several times when I was reading it
Look, I realize I’m being harsh. I realize this may seem a tad unfair to the author, the character, and the book in general. However, if I am going to read a book about teen tragedy I need to have a reason to be emotionally invested in the story. Life of Pi gave me teen tragedy and magical realism. It also made me wonder if the story actually happened. It’s not beyond the edges of reality that a young person, who’s faced with an unimaginable series of events, would create and live in his own fantasy world to get though it. Jellicoe Road doesn’t do that. It tries to be a reflection of reality and ends up being a fun house mirror.
If anyone wants to come a long and point out where I’m horribly wrong, I’m totally off base, and that I’m an idiot; I welcome it. I’ll take descending opinions about this book. In fact, I’d honestly love to see some. I tend to get wrapped up in my criticisms and miss crucial points.
Next up is One of Our Thursdays Is Missing. My love for Jasper Fford is boundless. I want to make a mini-Fford and put him in my pocket. Lets just say... I’m excited.
*** Note: In my previous blog post I referred to my husband as an asthmatic, glasses wearing nerd that plays World of Warcraft on the weekends. He got mad at me, and wants me to point out that he was in the military and works out once a day. He’s also like me to tell you that he hasn’t played World of Warcraft in three (!!!) weeks. The man cleans out our litter boxes so, I have real motivation to make him happy.
I read the Book Thief based on your recommendation. I would have ignored it, otherwise because it's "young adult" fiction. I believe my life is richer for reading that book. Love your blog, Saumensch. :)
ReplyDeleteI feel like Book Thief is also ignored because when describing it, it sounds stupid. Death narrating a book about the holocaust doesn't really win over people. Mostly, they want to poke that book with a stick rather than read it.
ReplyDeleteAlso, has anyone else noticed that Life of Pi has made a slow march towards the YA fiction area? When I bought my first copy it was in adult fiction. When I was looking for it a few weeks ago it was in the YA area. Odd.