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4.11 AVERAGE
4.11 AVERAGE
emotional
hopeful
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I cannot figure out who is meant to be reading this book. If it’s a children’s book, it’s way too long. If it’s for adults, it’s way too simplistic.
I was bored reading this. The same idea is repeated over and over and over again. To the point that I considered whether or not the intended audience was primary school children. Budo is a shit narrator. His view is so limited it strangles the plot.
I was bored reading this. The same idea is repeated over and over and over again. To the point that I considered whether or not the intended audience was primary school children. Budo is a shit narrator. His view is so limited it strangles the plot.
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Kidnapping
We’ve all had imaginary friends at some point or another. The thing is, most of us give them up before too long. So what happens to those imaginary friends when we forget about them? Memoirs is a kind of autobiography of Budo, the imaginary friend of autistic kindergartner Max. Max needs him more than most children: he doesn’t like using the school bathrooms unless they’re completely devoid of other occupants (Budo keeps watch outside the door); he hates it when his mother kisses him goodnight (Budo has to keep track of how many goodnight kisses his mother bestows upon him while he’s asleep). Budo doesn’t mind his duties, though. All this means that Max needs him, and the more Max needs him...the longer he can exist. As Budo explains:
Dicks has given Budo an elaborate set of rules to abide by. No one can see him but Max, and his abilities are limited to what Max has imagined for him: he can pass through doors and windows, but not through walls; he can’t communicate with adults or other children (but he can talk to other imaginary friends). He can’t pick things up, either. All of these things come into play when one of Max’s overzealous special ed teachers decides that she knows more about Max’s well-being than his own parents (what were they thinking, enrolling an autistic child in a public school?) So she decides to take custody of Max—without Max’s parents’ permission (which technically is kidnapping). Naturally, Budo wants to help Max return home to Mom and Dad—but that would mean encouraging Max to take things into his own hands—and that could threaten Budo’s very existence.
I won’t lie. Memoirs takes its time setting up the rules, and it’s about eighty-five pages in before the story really gets started. Dicks also focuses more on the premise than the characters. Budo (How do you even pronounce that? Budd-oh? Boo-doh?) spends a lot of time repeating himself, giving example after example about how imaginary people are different from real people:
Yeah, yeah, we get it already.
As other readers have noted, though, there are times where Budo’s childlike voice pushes the story into the territory of YA cross-over instead of adult fiction. This is not to say that Memoirs has plenty of elements to make a good story: Max’s evolution from inflexibility to self-sufficiency, his poor parents’ struggles with having an autistic child, not to mention the almost unbearable suspense of the novel’s second half (if you find yourself struggling through the first half, don’t worry. It picks up really soon). So if you’re not too fond of childlike narrators, you may want to look for something else. If you liked Emma Donoghue’s Room, however, chances are that Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend will be just the right fit for you.
“It’s very strange to be an imaginary friend. You can’t suffocate and you can’t get sick, and you can’t fall and break your head, and you can’t catch pneumonia. The only thing that can kill you is a person not believing in you.” (140)
Dicks has given Budo an elaborate set of rules to abide by. No one can see him but Max, and his abilities are limited to what Max has imagined for him: he can pass through doors and windows, but not through walls; he can’t communicate with adults or other children (but he can talk to other imaginary friends). He can’t pick things up, either. All of these things come into play when one of Max’s overzealous special ed teachers decides that she knows more about Max’s well-being than his own parents (what were they thinking, enrolling an autistic child in a public school?) So she decides to take custody of Max—without Max’s parents’ permission (which technically is kidnapping). Naturally, Budo wants to help Max return home to Mom and Dad—but that would mean encouraging Max to take things into his own hands—and that could threaten Budo’s very existence.
I won’t lie. Memoirs takes its time setting up the rules, and it’s about eighty-five pages in before the story really gets started. Dicks also focuses more on the premise than the characters. Budo (How do you even pronounce that? Budd-oh? Boo-doh?) spends a lot of time repeating himself, giving example after example about how imaginary people are different from real people:
“It’s not the fence that blocks [an imaginary friend] from entering. It’s the idea of the fence. ... I don’t leave footprints because I’m not actually touching the ground. I’m touching the idea of the ground” (60). “I look like I breathe, but all I breathe is the idea of air...” (140). And at one point, Budo accidentally backs into the corner of a wall (“The idea of the corner, I mean...”) (233).
Yeah, yeah, we get it already.
As other readers have noted, though, there are times where Budo’s childlike voice pushes the story into the territory of YA cross-over instead of adult fiction. This is not to say that Memoirs has plenty of elements to make a good story: Max’s evolution from inflexibility to self-sufficiency, his poor parents’ struggles with having an autistic child, not to mention the almost unbearable suspense of the novel’s second half (if you find yourself struggling through the first half, don’t worry. It picks up really soon). So if you’re not too fond of childlike narrators, you may want to look for something else. If you liked Emma Donoghue’s Room, however, chances are that Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend will be just the right fit for you.
Wow! What a great read! I was absolutely blown away by the unique narration based on the point of view of Budo,the imaginary friend.Its almost like a kid's adventure book but only for adults.Simple yet powerful and enduring.I haven't cried,laughed,cringed and held my breath reading a book in a very long time.A definite book club pick!
I'll be seeing alot of Matthew Dicks in the future :D
I'll be seeing alot of Matthew Dicks in the future :D
Budo é o amigo imaginário do Max, um garotinho que não gosta de interagir com outras pessoas e que só confia no Budo. Max não gosta de mudanças nem de tomar decisões, deixando Budo escolher qual camisa vestir ou o que fazer na maior parte do tempo. Contudo, após um evento que coloca a segurança do Max em perigo acontecer, Budo tem que se esforçar para fazer Max entender que ele precisa confiar em si mesmo para se salvar, pois ele é o único que pode fazê-lo.
O primeiro 1/3 do livro é bem lento e entediante, mas quando a história finalmente começa, fica impossível parar de ler. Há muitas cenas que parecem se arrastar e que poderiam ser facilmente tiradas do livro, e o modo de pensar do Budo em muitos momentos me irritaram. Mesmo assim, o autor conseguiu captar minha atenção de tal modo que não consegui parar até chegar ao final. De certo modo, esse livro me lembrou Divertida Mente com a história do Bing Bong, ao mesmo tempo que me fez lembrar dos amigos imaginários que eu tinha quando criança.
Esse não é um livro infantil, mas é um livro que faz a gente lembrar da infância, com um final que dá um quentinho no coração.
O primeiro 1/3 do livro é bem lento e entediante, mas quando a história finalmente começa, fica impossível parar de ler. Há muitas cenas que parecem se arrastar e que poderiam ser facilmente tiradas do livro, e o modo de pensar do Budo em muitos momentos me irritaram. Mesmo assim, o autor conseguiu captar minha atenção de tal modo que não consegui parar até chegar ao final. De certo modo, esse livro me lembrou Divertida Mente com a história do Bing Bong, ao mesmo tempo que me fez lembrar dos amigos imaginários que eu tinha quando criança.
Esse não é um livro infantil, mas é um livro que faz a gente lembrar da infância, com um final que dá um quentinho no coração.
sweet and beautiful and sad and whimsical and charming and moving and perceptive and wonderful.
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
oh my goodness. At first I really didn't like the book too much. It seemed childishly written.
But once I started reading the book more and more, I began to like the book more and more. Obviously I somewhat liked the middle and then right after 3/4 of the way in I couldn't put it down.
My boyfriend pointed out that I really like alternative point of views. I have to agree that that is true.
I would definitely recommend this one.
But once I started reading the book more and more, I began to like the book more and more. Obviously I somewhat liked the middle and then right after 3/4 of the way in I couldn't put it down.
My boyfriend pointed out that I really like alternative point of views. I have to agree that that is true.
I would definitely recommend this one.
Great book. Made me wish I had an imaginary friend when I was little :(