You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
lovelykd 's review for:
If You Come Softly: Twentieth Anniversary Edition
by Jacqueline Woodson
You know what’s heartbreaking about this story? It’s now two decades later and we’re still talking about these same issues: racism, the criminalization of young black males, intolerance, ignorance, privilege, etc.
Why?
Why have we not evolved enough in 20 years to be better people?
Ugh.
The story itself wasn’t groundbreaking in any way.
A boy and girl meet, fall in love, and try to make their way within a world where that love is not comfortable for those around them.
Simple. And, as usual, Jacqueline Woodson has a way with words.
Each page sung. Every sentence was a caress. Every paragraph an embrace.
The writing definitely wasn’t the problem. The actual love story was my issue because ...bleh.
The love between Jeremiah and Ellie was so cheesy. So sickeningly saccharine—built on glances and smiles—and I just. Could. Not.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the “power of love”, but these two made my teeth hurt. And then to end their story, in such devastating fashion, after pouring an entire syrup bottle of longing onto the floor?
I ...I just didn’t get it. And it rubbed me the wrong way.
Was that the point? To have an effect? To illicit a strong response that perhaps makes you think more about these very real issues?
Maybe. But, it felt like a point that didn’t need to be made in the manner that was chosen.
Why?
Why have we not evolved enough in 20 years to be better people?
Ugh.
The story itself wasn’t groundbreaking in any way.
A boy and girl meet, fall in love, and try to make their way within a world where that love is not comfortable for those around them.
Simple. And, as usual, Jacqueline Woodson has a way with words.
Each page sung. Every sentence was a caress. Every paragraph an embrace.
The writing definitely wasn’t the problem. The actual love story was my issue because ...bleh.
The love between Jeremiah and Ellie was so cheesy. So sickeningly saccharine—built on glances and smiles—and I just. Could. Not.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the “power of love”, but these two made my teeth hurt. And then to end their story, in such devastating fashion, after pouring an entire syrup bottle of longing onto the floor?
I ...I just didn’t get it. And it rubbed me the wrong way.
Was that the point? To have an effect? To illicit a strong response that perhaps makes you think more about these very real issues?
Maybe. But, it felt like a point that didn’t need to be made in the manner that was chosen.