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lizzy_bells's review against another edition
challenging
dark
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
kewillard's review against another edition
dark
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
engene's review against another edition
4.0
finished this in 1 day, it sucked me in but ultimately didnt make a huge impact on me i think
gabrielleint's review against another edition
5.0
This book is very well written. I think it captures a lot of what girlhood is like. It also was an interesting exploration of how someone can get sucked into a cult. Cline’s prose shines the most when talking about Evie’s obsession with Suzanne. It really evoked what being obsessed with your friends as a teenager felt like. She also did a great job of depicting how girls get groomed. It fell flat for me though as I never connected enough with the characters other than Evie. I think more explanation of the other girls in the cult would have made this hit more. I also wish more of the progression of falling into the cult was shown. It was more of a pacing issue but it took it down 2ish stars for me.
bbrillie's review against another edition
4.0
really loved the transitions between 1969 and present day evie! cline’s storytelling capabilities are incredible and it was so easy to sink into her story. At times, it was really uncomfortable to get through the disturbing presence of Russell and his sexual relationship to the girls on the ranch. However, Cline has a lot of stand out lines and writes about her own obsession with acceptance in such a compelling manner.
ka_nic's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
slow-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
4.25
alycedawn's review against another edition
dark
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
mariangmakiling's review against another edition
4.0
✮✮✮✮ to THE GIRLS by Emma Cline.
This review was also featured on Fully Booked's website.
1969, California. Fourteen-year-old Evie Boyd, the voice behind Emma Cline’s The Girls, invites readers to dip their toes into a pool of hippie vibrations, adolescent abandon, and a summer of violence.
It begins with Evie alone in a park. A group of older girls–long-haired, loosely dressed, and laughing–pass her by like dandelion wisps. They come and go, and it’s at this intersection where Evie begins to daydream of a summer beyond smoking weed in her best friend’s house and a life extraneous to coping with her parents’ divorce and licking batteries to feel something, anything.
Eventually, Evie follows the girls to a crumbling ranch in the middle of God knows where. There, feathers hang from tree branches and bonfires burn late into the night. People run free with kohl tattoos, flowers, and tinsel crowns, and cars are trashed for the hell of it. All of these are acts of freedom, Evie reasons, but little does she know that she is about to be initiated into an infamous Charles Mansonesque cult–a group whose story will be painted blood-red by newspaper headlines screaming murder in less than three months.
Emma Cline colors Evie’s story red too; every chapter in The Girls bursts with sex, drugs, manipulation, and teenage angst. But despite the cult’s disturbing rituals, we get to view everything from Evie’s rose-colored glasses. We see charm instead of harm in Russell, the cult’s mastermind. Suzanne, the girl Evie feels most drawn to, is painted rainbow-bright to hide the darkness of her drug addictions and toxicology of her relationship with Russell.
We see the blues of teenage girlhood too. Lazy days floating in a swimming pool and hazy, drug-induced dances beneath the stars are Evie’s everyday ceremonies. Emma Cline frames the claustrophobia of Evie’s sexual frustrations, self-consciousness, and loneliness with words so dreamlike and faded they could be strung up on a wall like polaroids. From cover to cover, Cline’s words echo The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides and Petra Collins photographs, and braid Evie’s experiences into trance-like passages.
But put these reds and blues together, and you’ll find that The Girls is a book with a “tell-it-as-it-is” attitude. It neither passes judgment on the unspeakable things that happen in and outside of Evie’s mind, nor over-romanticize the way she falls for the wrong crowd. No–its poetry comes from a different sort of beauty: the kind birthed from rawness of emotion and obsession. Nothing is censored here. Prepare to forget the fact that The Girls is Emma Cline’s debut novel; her words will transport and shock. And with passages like this:
Poor Sasha. Poor girls. The world fattens them on the promise of love. How badly they need it, and how little most of them will ever get. The treacled pop songs, the dresses described in the catalogs with words like ‘sunset’ and ‘Paris.’ Then the dreams are taken away with such violent force; the hand wrenching the buttons of the jeans, nobody looking at the man shouting at his girlfriend on the bus.
It’s clear that The Girls isn’t just about Evie and her fellow female cult members. It’s a portrait depicting the sharp angles of every teenaged girl’s heart, and Emma Cline is its faithful photographer.
Savor this book as you would a popsicle in the summertime. It’s a testament to all sweet things, and how quickly they can melt away under the heat of reality’s truths.
This review was also featured on Fully Booked's website.
1969, California. Fourteen-year-old Evie Boyd, the voice behind Emma Cline’s The Girls, invites readers to dip their toes into a pool of hippie vibrations, adolescent abandon, and a summer of violence.
It begins with Evie alone in a park. A group of older girls–long-haired, loosely dressed, and laughing–pass her by like dandelion wisps. They come and go, and it’s at this intersection where Evie begins to daydream of a summer beyond smoking weed in her best friend’s house and a life extraneous to coping with her parents’ divorce and licking batteries to feel something, anything.
Eventually, Evie follows the girls to a crumbling ranch in the middle of God knows where. There, feathers hang from tree branches and bonfires burn late into the night. People run free with kohl tattoos, flowers, and tinsel crowns, and cars are trashed for the hell of it. All of these are acts of freedom, Evie reasons, but little does she know that she is about to be initiated into an infamous Charles Mansonesque cult–a group whose story will be painted blood-red by newspaper headlines screaming murder in less than three months.
Emma Cline colors Evie’s story red too; every chapter in The Girls bursts with sex, drugs, manipulation, and teenage angst. But despite the cult’s disturbing rituals, we get to view everything from Evie’s rose-colored glasses. We see charm instead of harm in Russell, the cult’s mastermind. Suzanne, the girl Evie feels most drawn to, is painted rainbow-bright to hide the darkness of her drug addictions and toxicology of her relationship with Russell.
We see the blues of teenage girlhood too. Lazy days floating in a swimming pool and hazy, drug-induced dances beneath the stars are Evie’s everyday ceremonies. Emma Cline frames the claustrophobia of Evie’s sexual frustrations, self-consciousness, and loneliness with words so dreamlike and faded they could be strung up on a wall like polaroids. From cover to cover, Cline’s words echo The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides and Petra Collins photographs, and braid Evie’s experiences into trance-like passages.
But put these reds and blues together, and you’ll find that The Girls is a book with a “tell-it-as-it-is” attitude. It neither passes judgment on the unspeakable things that happen in and outside of Evie’s mind, nor over-romanticize the way she falls for the wrong crowd. No–its poetry comes from a different sort of beauty: the kind birthed from rawness of emotion and obsession. Nothing is censored here. Prepare to forget the fact that The Girls is Emma Cline’s debut novel; her words will transport and shock. And with passages like this:
Poor Sasha. Poor girls. The world fattens them on the promise of love. How badly they need it, and how little most of them will ever get. The treacled pop songs, the dresses described in the catalogs with words like ‘sunset’ and ‘Paris.’ Then the dreams are taken away with such violent force; the hand wrenching the buttons of the jeans, nobody looking at the man shouting at his girlfriend on the bus.
It’s clear that The Girls isn’t just about Evie and her fellow female cult members. It’s a portrait depicting the sharp angles of every teenaged girl’s heart, and Emma Cline is its faithful photographer.
Savor this book as you would a popsicle in the summertime. It’s a testament to all sweet things, and how quickly they can melt away under the heat of reality’s truths.
hawkeye_hawkins's review against another edition
1.0
This was not a horrible book, but it wasn't good either. It was very meh. I had to make myself finish, mainly because I was waiting for something to happen. Nothing really happens to the main character, except a couple disturbing sexual encounters and the chance to commit a felony. Another thing that puzzles me is why the author didn't create a different cult/leader instead of changing names from the Manson Family. Read Helter Skelter instead of this book.
pkatrinaanne's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0