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rsadelleWhat They Always Tell Us has one very nice bit, and one cliched but good bit, both of which I will reproduce here so you don't actually have to read the book:
The very nice bit:
The rest of the book, however, is not worth your time. Trust me.
I had a discussion with some friends about how gay men writing gay YA lit almost always have some sort of generational tell. It took me a surprisingly long time to realize that one of the things bothering me about the book was one of these. The kids in the book all have parents who are doctors, lawyers, professors. All of the kids have their own cars. No one has a cell phone. One character has his own phone line in his room. Look, I get that we all want to tell our own stories, but they make for bad - or at least problematic - fiction when we do it deliberately. With no time orientation in a story, the reader will assume it takes place now, and now teenagers, especially upper middle class ones, have cell phones. The attitudes in the book seem pretty much nowish, so I'm pretty sure it's not just that I missed the time orientation cues.
Beyond that, the biggest problem with the book is that it doesn't quite know what it wants to be, which means it's never quite successful at being anything in particular. The book is the story of what happens over the course of a school year: Alex's junior year and his brother James' senior year. The book mostly ambles along, which is true to life, but real life is more interesting to live than to read about.
Each chapter alternates between Alex's point of view and James', which is an interesting device that can work. Unfortunately, I found James completely unlikable for most of the book. He somewhat redeems himself later, but that initial dislike is a difficult hurdle to overcome, and I still don't like James much even after finishing the book.
The book is also in present tense, which shouldn't seem odd because I read a lot of present tense fic, but I finally realized it feels strange because it's a much more formal present tense than the casual, conversational present tense of fan fic.
The main plot thread is that at the beginning of the year, Alex made a suicide attempt. One of the things the book maybe wants to be is the story of how Alex and James deal with that. Two things bothered me about this plotline. First of all, we don't directly meet Alex's therapist until the end of the book, which is a problem. If he's going to therapy once or twice a week, we need more engagement with the therapist than just a passing mention, even if Alex doesn't really talk to him until the end. The other problem I have with this storyline is that wen he tells his therapist about how he's happier now, he doesn't talk about cross country or the kid across the street he made friends with; he talks about his boyfriend. I find anything that promotes being in a relationship as the answer to all life's questions problematic, and doubly so when it's presented as the solution to mental health issues.
There are two other plot threads that don't weave well into the story. One is James' relationships with girls, which is part of what makes him unlikable. The other is the mystery about the new people who moved in across the street. They're a woman and her ten-year-old son Henry. James and Alex both befriend Henry, and their interest in the mystery around why Henry and his mom have moved to town and who Henry's father might be is one of the things that brings them together. On its own, this might make an interesting story, but mixed in with all the other things going on in the book, it's too much.
There is one other thing I have to mention, and that is that there is an odd, inexplicable reference to V.C. Andrews' Flowers in the Attic without mentioning it by name: "He's wearing shades and reading a creepy novel about a grandmother who locks her grandchildren in an attic." It was so odd that I can only conclude that it's one of the elements of his own life that Wilson put into the book.
The very nice bit:
Alex has kissed a few girls. That girl Carla, in eighth grade. He liked it, though it felt mechanical and fast. Powerful but not passionate. He kissed Lang once, too, but more as a joke. He liked the process, the act - but not really the people he was doing it with.The cliched but good bit:
This is different. It's not mechanical It's not a joke. It feels right. He'd do it forever, if he could. He realizes it is how a kiss is supposed to feel.
Before, with girls, Alex got nervous about the idea of sex and messing around, so he never pursued it. It didn't really light his fire anyway, so he figured he'd be bad at it. But this, with Nathen, doesn't feel weird - it feels so natural, like he's picked up a skill he didn't know he had.
The rest of the book, however, is not worth your time. Trust me.
I had a discussion with some friends about how gay men writing gay YA lit almost always have some sort of generational tell. It took me a surprisingly long time to realize that one of the things bothering me about the book was one of these. The kids in the book all have parents who are doctors, lawyers, professors. All of the kids have their own cars. No one has a cell phone. One character has his own phone line in his room. Look, I get that we all want to tell our own stories, but they make for bad - or at least problematic - fiction when we do it deliberately. With no time orientation in a story, the reader will assume it takes place now, and now teenagers, especially upper middle class ones, have cell phones. The attitudes in the book seem pretty much nowish, so I'm pretty sure it's not just that I missed the time orientation cues.
Beyond that, the biggest problem with the book is that it doesn't quite know what it wants to be, which means it's never quite successful at being anything in particular. The book is the story of what happens over the course of a school year: Alex's junior year and his brother James' senior year. The book mostly ambles along, which is true to life, but real life is more interesting to live than to read about.
Each chapter alternates between Alex's point of view and James', which is an interesting device that can work. Unfortunately, I found James completely unlikable for most of the book. He somewhat redeems himself later, but that initial dislike is a difficult hurdle to overcome, and I still don't like James much even after finishing the book.
The book is also in present tense, which shouldn't seem odd because I read a lot of present tense fic, but I finally realized it feels strange because it's a much more formal present tense than the casual, conversational present tense of fan fic.
The main plot thread is that at the beginning of the year, Alex made a suicide attempt. One of the things the book maybe wants to be is the story of how Alex and James deal with that. Two things bothered me about this plotline. First of all, we don't directly meet Alex's therapist until the end of the book, which is a problem. If he's going to therapy once or twice a week, we need more engagement with the therapist than just a passing mention, even if Alex doesn't really talk to him until the end. The other problem I have with this storyline is that wen he tells his therapist about how he's happier now, he doesn't talk about cross country or the kid across the street he made friends with; he talks about his boyfriend. I find anything that promotes being in a relationship as the answer to all life's questions problematic, and doubly so when it's presented as the solution to mental health issues.
There are two other plot threads that don't weave well into the story. One is James' relationships with girls, which is part of what makes him unlikable. The other is the mystery about the new people who moved in across the street. They're a woman and her ten-year-old son Henry. James and Alex both befriend Henry, and their interest in the mystery around why Henry and his mom have moved to town and who Henry's father might be is one of the things that brings them together. On its own, this might make an interesting story, but mixed in with all the other things going on in the book, it's too much.
There is one other thing I have to mention, and that is that there is an odd, inexplicable reference to V.C. Andrews' Flowers in the Attic without mentioning it by name: "He's wearing shades and reading a creepy novel about a grandmother who locks her grandchildren in an attic." It was so odd that I can only conclude that it's one of the elements of his own life that Wilson put into the book.