![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
158. Funny Boy by Shyam Selvadurai
I don't know if I'm glad I read Selvadurai's Swimming in the Monsoon Sea first, because I didn't have high expectations for his novels. I enjoyed that book, but I liked Funny Boy a lot more. Perhaps if I'd read this first, I would be better able to appreciate Swimming in the Monsoon Sea, but this review isn't about that book. It's about Funny Boy, which is a heartbreaking coming of age story told with the backdrop of the beginnings of civil war in Sri Lanka.
The main character is Arjie, a young boy who isn't quite sure what he is. He enjoys playing a game called bride-bride with his sister and female cousins, where he gets to dress up in wedding clothes and make up. But when his parents find out, they set out to try to change his behavior. Of course this doesn't go according to plan, but that's what makes this novel so good. While Arjie is coming to terms with the fact that he's gay (and learning how to hide it from his family), he's also growing up far too fast. He accompanies his mother when she spends time with an old boyfriend, he spends time with the son of a friend of his father, who lets him know that he's not alone in the world, and then he's sent to school to make him a real man.
Those events make this story excellent, but when it's mixed with the horrors of violence, murders and fear, Selvadurai creates something extraordinary. As a review on the back of the copy of the book I read said, it shows us that we are not alone. And that's exactly what Selvadurai does. His writing paints pictures of what it's like to grow up in a world unlike our own, and yet like our own all the same. We learn of events -- Arjie's feelings for a boy at school, his mother's affair, what it's like being a Tamil in Sri Lanka -- through the eyes of a boy trying to find his place in the world. While the reader might understand what's happening, Arjie doesn't, and watching him grow just adds more depth to the novel.
I enjoyed this book so much, that I immediately placed a hold on Selvadurai's second book, Cinnamon Gardens.
159. The Order of the Poison Oak by Brent Hartinger
I don't have a lot to say about this book. It's a very cute read, short, sweet and not-quite to the point (which is the point, amusingly enough). Hartinger's sequel to Geography Club is the story of Russel, Gunnar and Min. It follows the three friends as they embark on one of those life-changing (or at least temporarily altering) events that teenagers have. They decide to spend the summer being camp counselors at summer camp. What ensues does include some hijinks, but like the first book, there's a serious side. Hartinger tells the story from Russel's point of view, infusing it with a mild form of introspection that is both amusing and annoying -- though not enough so that I didn't like the book. In fact, I enjoyed the story because it was exactly what I wanted -- a cute story that you knew would be happy in the end, but you weren't sure just how the characters were going to sort things out. I wish Hartinger was going to write more in this universe, but The Order of the Poison Oak seems to be a complete novel. It's both enjoyable and fun to read.
160. You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn
This is the first book I've read by Cohn that wasn't one of the two she wrote with David Levithan. I'd wanted something lighter, but had forgotten what You Know Where to Find Me was about. In the end, I didn't want to read anything other than this book. Cohn's writing is just as good as I'd hoped and her storytelling ability is as strong on her own as it was with Levithan. What makes You Know Where to Find Me so good is the main character of Miles. In many ways, this is because I identify with Miles (though not the smoking or drugs, just most everything else). She is believable, her pain is believable as is her coping. It's not that these themes can't be found in other books (see: Gail Giles), but it's the way Cohn writes that it different. We see, live and experience life the way Miles does. From the first person to the third person to the drug-induced haze of loss and love. Cohn's story is good because it's real, and it's real because her writing captures everything with a blunt honesty that can only be afforded by the fact that Miles is, to us, exactly who she is. While she might be trying to find herself, we're getting to know her. And in the end, it's worth everything because Cohn's writing is strong enough to take us on that journey and to let us know that if Miles can find her way back, we can too.
160 / 170 new reads. 94% read!
I don't know if I'm glad I read Selvadurai's Swimming in the Monsoon Sea first, because I didn't have high expectations for his novels. I enjoyed that book, but I liked Funny Boy a lot more. Perhaps if I'd read this first, I would be better able to appreciate Swimming in the Monsoon Sea, but this review isn't about that book. It's about Funny Boy, which is a heartbreaking coming of age story told with the backdrop of the beginnings of civil war in Sri Lanka.
The main character is Arjie, a young boy who isn't quite sure what he is. He enjoys playing a game called bride-bride with his sister and female cousins, where he gets to dress up in wedding clothes and make up. But when his parents find out, they set out to try to change his behavior. Of course this doesn't go according to plan, but that's what makes this novel so good. While Arjie is coming to terms with the fact that he's gay (and learning how to hide it from his family), he's also growing up far too fast. He accompanies his mother when she spends time with an old boyfriend, he spends time with the son of a friend of his father, who lets him know that he's not alone in the world, and then he's sent to school to make him a real man.
Those events make this story excellent, but when it's mixed with the horrors of violence, murders and fear, Selvadurai creates something extraordinary. As a review on the back of the copy of the book I read said, it shows us that we are not alone. And that's exactly what Selvadurai does. His writing paints pictures of what it's like to grow up in a world unlike our own, and yet like our own all the same. We learn of events -- Arjie's feelings for a boy at school, his mother's affair, what it's like being a Tamil in Sri Lanka -- through the eyes of a boy trying to find his place in the world. While the reader might understand what's happening, Arjie doesn't, and watching him grow just adds more depth to the novel.
I enjoyed this book so much, that I immediately placed a hold on Selvadurai's second book, Cinnamon Gardens.
159. The Order of the Poison Oak by Brent Hartinger
I don't have a lot to say about this book. It's a very cute read, short, sweet and not-quite to the point (which is the point, amusingly enough). Hartinger's sequel to Geography Club is the story of Russel, Gunnar and Min. It follows the three friends as they embark on one of those life-changing (or at least temporarily altering) events that teenagers have. They decide to spend the summer being camp counselors at summer camp. What ensues does include some hijinks, but like the first book, there's a serious side. Hartinger tells the story from Russel's point of view, infusing it with a mild form of introspection that is both amusing and annoying -- though not enough so that I didn't like the book. In fact, I enjoyed the story because it was exactly what I wanted -- a cute story that you knew would be happy in the end, but you weren't sure just how the characters were going to sort things out. I wish Hartinger was going to write more in this universe, but The Order of the Poison Oak seems to be a complete novel. It's both enjoyable and fun to read.
160. You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn
This is the first book I've read by Cohn that wasn't one of the two she wrote with David Levithan. I'd wanted something lighter, but had forgotten what You Know Where to Find Me was about. In the end, I didn't want to read anything other than this book. Cohn's writing is just as good as I'd hoped and her storytelling ability is as strong on her own as it was with Levithan. What makes You Know Where to Find Me so good is the main character of Miles. In many ways, this is because I identify with Miles (though not the smoking or drugs, just most everything else). She is believable, her pain is believable as is her coping. It's not that these themes can't be found in other books (see: Gail Giles), but it's the way Cohn writes that it different. We see, live and experience life the way Miles does. From the first person to the third person to the drug-induced haze of loss and love. Cohn's story is good because it's real, and it's real because her writing captures everything with a blunt honesty that can only be afforded by the fact that Miles is, to us, exactly who she is. While she might be trying to find herself, we're getting to know her. And in the end, it's worth everything because Cohn's writing is strong enough to take us on that journey and to let us know that if Miles can find her way back, we can too.