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brandypainter's review against another edition
3.0
Originally posted at Random Musings of a Bibliophile.
Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins is a Newbery winner of the past decade that for whatever reason I hadn't read yet. I thought it was about time to change that. I can see why the committee liked it.
Synopsis (from author's website):
The people in this book are fourteen years old, and there is romance, but it’s mostly the kind of romance where one person looks at another person and that person looks at the first person, but their looks miss each other, maybe only by a second, and they don’t connect. There is a a scene in the Hitchcock movie Strangers on a Train where the wacko guy does this with his hands and says, “Criss Cross.” He’s talking about something else (murder) but I’m talking about those just-missed opportunities to connect. This might sound discouraging, but I think it’s actually encouraging to know that we came pretty close, and if we keep trying, we’ll get it right.
In the beginning I really thought I was going to love this book. It has the sort of language I revel in. And revel in it I did. I appreciate how this book was written.
He looked at the musician again who didn't seem so ordinary anymore. His music had transformed him, or revealed a part of him that was plugged into the cosmic life force. A life force that seeped in, through, and under the music, like God in the Communion wafer. An everyday kind of life force, though, that could do this in a song about a chicken. More about earth than heaven. Also girls really liked it.
She knew that she would have to talk. She should have been able to do it. But she had developed a black hole in her brain. She could be in the middle of a normal conversation with a boy and the instant she thought of him that way-as a boy-the black hole sucked all her words away. Except a few stupid ones. The stupid ones stayed in there.
There was a lot to love about the language, but in the end the book was simply to episodic for me to connect with any of the characters. It is a book about connection or the lack thereof. About almost but not quite connecting with another person. So this may have been the author's intention. It kept me too distant to really care though. It turned out to be a good thing as if I had cared I would have been over the top infuriated by the end. As it was I was too detached to really care.
Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins is a Newbery winner of the past decade that for whatever reason I hadn't read yet. I thought it was about time to change that. I can see why the committee liked it.
Synopsis (from author's website):
The people in this book are fourteen years old, and there is romance, but it’s mostly the kind of romance where one person looks at another person and that person looks at the first person, but their looks miss each other, maybe only by a second, and they don’t connect. There is a a scene in the Hitchcock movie Strangers on a Train where the wacko guy does this with his hands and says, “Criss Cross.” He’s talking about something else (murder) but I’m talking about those just-missed opportunities to connect. This might sound discouraging, but I think it’s actually encouraging to know that we came pretty close, and if we keep trying, we’ll get it right.
In the beginning I really thought I was going to love this book. It has the sort of language I revel in. And revel in it I did. I appreciate how this book was written.
He looked at the musician again who didn't seem so ordinary anymore. His music had transformed him, or revealed a part of him that was plugged into the cosmic life force. A life force that seeped in, through, and under the music, like God in the Communion wafer. An everyday kind of life force, though, that could do this in a song about a chicken. More about earth than heaven. Also girls really liked it.
She knew that she would have to talk. She should have been able to do it. But she had developed a black hole in her brain. She could be in the middle of a normal conversation with a boy and the instant she thought of him that way-as a boy-the black hole sucked all her words away. Except a few stupid ones. The stupid ones stayed in there.
There was a lot to love about the language, but in the end the book was simply to episodic for me to connect with any of the characters. It is a book about connection or the lack thereof. About almost but not quite connecting with another person. So this may have been the author's intention. It kept me too distant to really care though. It turned out to be a good thing as if I had cared I would have been over the top infuriated by the end. As it was I was too detached to really care.
sarahbethbrown's review against another edition
4.0
This is a delightful book. I had not even heard of it, but it won a newbery! It's just the intersecting little lives of a bunch of kids in the 70s, but they are just told really wonderfully. It felt really true-- so many moments I remember feeling the same way when I was a teenager. I wonder if teens recognize those feelings in themselves?
idgetfay's review against another edition
4.0
I started to Marie Kondo my ‘Want-to-Read’ list. It involves two steps: getting rid of the books I think I should want to read but don’t actually want to read, then reading the ones I actually want to read. I decided to read this one because it had the lowest average rating of my entire Want-to-Read list. I am happy to report that I disagree with the average. This book was a delight, but it’s subtle. I think the book sums itself up with this quote: “Nothing happened. Everything happened.” The characters made this book come alive for me… they learn guitar, and how to drive. They go out for ice cream. They lose a necklace. They watch the lights come on at the used car lot. The most exciting thing that happens is that an old lady needs medical care. These teens are not heroes and they’re not adults but they’re right on the edge of both. Instead of saving the world they pick up garbage and help their grandmother and it’s that much more important because it’s that much more real. The prose is so lovely… you swoop from character to character, seeing slices of their lives and hearing their thoughts from the mundane to the philosophical. The callbacks and connections are skillfully done, like good standup comedy but for poignancy. It’s hard to describe, and clearly it’s not for everyone, but I loved it.
rbreade's review against another edition
Wonderfully written, and a rare example of the omniscient mode in middle-grade/YA fiction, where first-person point of view has been king in recent years, it seems. The warm tone of the narrator follows a group of middle school kids, 14 years old, and some of the adults around them, as they go about their lives in a smallish town in a time before the Internet and cell phones. The narrator has a playful side, dipping briefly into the point of view of an inanimate object, such as a necklace, or animals, but two characters become slightly more prominent than the others: Debbie and Hector. The insights into the characters' lives, particularly those of the kids, proves the writer has not forgotten what it was like to be 14--in fact, she must have been taking excellent notes.
In my taxonomy of writers, there are storytellers and voice masters, the latter blessed with the ability to marry lovely, startling prose to interesting characters in offering amazing commentaries on life, while the former have a sure grasp of plot and are able to shape story arcs that seem inevitable and surprising at the same time.
Readers tend to prefer one to the other--we're all fortunate if we find the rare writer who combines both talents. I love a great story but I prefer those with a strong voice and beautiful prose; these are the books I reread, and Criss Cross falls into this category. Writers such as J. K. Rowling and, to a lesser extent, Suzanne Collins, are consummate storytellers. I enjoyed both of their series, but neither contains a single memorable sentence; once I've read their stories I don't feel the need to revisit their books. I think most people prefer the storytellers, though, to judge by the bestseller lists, and that's fine, so long as the market still has room for those whose words are more than simply a vehicle to move characters and readers from one plot twist to the next.
Reread on May 6, 2012.
In my taxonomy of writers, there are storytellers and voice masters, the latter blessed with the ability to marry lovely, startling prose to interesting characters in offering amazing commentaries on life, while the former have a sure grasp of plot and are able to shape story arcs that seem inevitable and surprising at the same time.
Readers tend to prefer one to the other--we're all fortunate if we find the rare writer who combines both talents. I love a great story but I prefer those with a strong voice and beautiful prose; these are the books I reread, and Criss Cross falls into this category. Writers such as J. K. Rowling and, to a lesser extent, Suzanne Collins, are consummate storytellers. I enjoyed both of their series, but neither contains a single memorable sentence; once I've read their stories I don't feel the need to revisit their books. I think most people prefer the storytellers, though, to judge by the bestseller lists, and that's fine, so long as the market still has room for those whose words are more than simply a vehicle to move characters and readers from one plot twist to the next.
Reread on May 6, 2012.
rdyourbookcase's review against another edition
1.0
Unfortunately, I didn't finish Criss Cross. I just didn't understand it. Too many characters were introduced at once, and I couldn't keep them all straight. It just wasn't my cup of tea. However, one of our book club members had amazing insights to the book. Had I read it with her frame of mind, I would have understood a lot better and LOVED it. Unfortunately, I don't think children or teens would enjoy Criss Cross; it just seemed too slow moving.
roomforastory's review against another edition
4.0
Quirky and endearing. I'm giving it four stars for taking me back so vividly to some of the moments that I experienced as an awkward teenager, wondering about what it would be like to be an adult and doing my best to just make it through. I listened to this one and I'd like to reread it because I wasn't a big fan of how the reader interpreted it.
erinmp's review against another edition
2.0
I really didn't think much of this book. One reviewer called it "literary fiction for little tykes" and I think that's a pretty apt description. But the story that focuses on a small group of friends over a summer just didn't do anything for me. I didn't think that any one character was really explored and even though I don't need things to "happen" in books to make it good, this just didn't have the other needed features to save it. Thankfully it was a quick read.
liliya_klein's review against another edition
4.0
I remember dealing with these same thoughts at age 14. The book captured the feelings and anxieties of those years so well with a wonderfully wholesome strand running through it.