Scan barcode
A review by janina_reads
Fury by Shirley Marr
4.0
"My name is Eliza Boans and I am a murderer."
Well, talk about an introduction. That sentence certainly got my attention, and I think it has made it on my list of fave first sentences. I was certainly on full alert right from the beginning.
If someone asked me to describe Fury in short, I'd say it's Courtney Summers meets Pretty Little Liars. It has the edge and the dark tone reminiscent of Summers' novels, but with the glitz, mean girls and high school cliques that reminded me a little of the Pretty Little Liars series.
Shirley Marr is a master of show, don't tell. And I really love her for it. This book is subtle in its complexity, and there are a lot of things hinted at, but not fully explored; references made, but not spoken out aloud. And I love books like these. I love it when authors acknowledge their readers' intelligence – especially in YA fiction. I love it when books challenge my imagination and give me something to ponder about, yes, in a way I even love the kind of open ending (although it was devastating) this book left me with – because it means I can imagine a future for my characters.
Fury is addicting. It is a story within a story. We have a girl being hold at a police station, confessing to murder. And we have her story, slowly unfolding through flashbacks, as she opens up to her interrogator. At the beginning, we only know that there are two bodies. Who? No idea. Why did they have to die? Nothing. As the story progresses, you get a feel what might have happened, but in the end, one thing still took me completely by surprise. Eliza tells us right up front that her story isn't a happy story, but still – I didn't want to believe, I hoped.
Despite her snobbish behaviour and rich girl attitude, Eliza really got to me. She is not necessarily a character I like unconditionally, but she is a character I respect. She wanders on a fine line between spoiled and heartbreakingly lonely, she has a difficult relationship with her mother and her friends, but I like to believe that those relationships will work out somehow. I like to believe that Eliza will move past her anger – because I could really feel this anger burning in her, destructive and violent. This book's title is not only a lure to draw you in, no, it is really fitting.
One thing that irked me, though. In a way, this book almost felt like a fantasy – not as in magical realism, no as in: this can not be true. A high school like a palace, a headmaster that lets his students pick their own punishment when they've broken the rules – or, even better, lets other students pick it for them because he feels like it. A neighbourhood surrounded by a fence, not letting anyone in or out, a curfew. Houses like mansions, parents always away on either counseling or work trips. Money abound, Jane Austen dresses, designer shoes. Are these things real in someone's world? Maybe I am just too naïve to see it ...
Well, talk about an introduction. That sentence certainly got my attention, and I think it has made it on my list of fave first sentences. I was certainly on full alert right from the beginning.
If someone asked me to describe Fury in short, I'd say it's Courtney Summers meets Pretty Little Liars. It has the edge and the dark tone reminiscent of Summers' novels, but with the glitz, mean girls and high school cliques that reminded me a little of the Pretty Little Liars series.
Shirley Marr is a master of show, don't tell. And I really love her for it. This book is subtle in its complexity, and there are a lot of things hinted at, but not fully explored; references made, but not spoken out aloud. And I love books like these. I love it when authors acknowledge their readers' intelligence – especially in YA fiction. I love it when books challenge my imagination and give me something to ponder about, yes, in a way I even love the kind of open ending (although it was devastating) this book left me with – because it means I can imagine a future for my characters.
Fury is addicting. It is a story within a story. We have a girl being hold at a police station, confessing to murder. And we have her story, slowly unfolding through flashbacks, as she opens up to her interrogator. At the beginning, we only know that there are two bodies. Who? No idea. Why did they have to die? Nothing. As the story progresses, you get a feel what might have happened, but in the end, one thing still took me completely by surprise. Eliza tells us right up front that her story isn't a happy story, but still – I didn't want to believe, I hoped.
Despite her snobbish behaviour and rich girl attitude, Eliza really got to me. She is not necessarily a character I like unconditionally, but she is a character I respect. She wanders on a fine line between spoiled and heartbreakingly lonely, she has a difficult relationship with her mother and her friends, but I like to believe that those relationships will work out somehow. I like to believe that Eliza will move past her anger – because I could really feel this anger burning in her, destructive and violent. This book's title is not only a lure to draw you in, no, it is really fitting.
One thing that irked me, though. In a way, this book almost felt like a fantasy – not as in magical realism, no as in: this can not be true. A high school like a palace, a headmaster that lets his students pick their own punishment when they've broken the rules – or, even better, lets other students pick it for them because he feels like it. A neighbourhood surrounded by a fence, not letting anyone in or out, a curfew. Houses like mansions, parents always away on either counseling or work trips. Money abound, Jane Austen dresses, designer shoes. Are these things real in someone's world? Maybe I am just too naïve to see it ...