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stridette 's review for:
Boy's Life
by Robert R. McCammon
I have mixed feelings about this one. There were aspects that I absolutely adored, and others that I could recognise as great while also recognising that they simply weren't for me.
It reminded me a lot of Boy Swallows Universe, a book that I gave a wholehearted five stars and still think back upon with fondness from time to time. It had many things in common. It was driven by nostalgia. It didn't mind a cheesy ending. Magical realism and mystery were scattered throughout. So what was the difference?
Really, I think it boils down to the question of nostalgia. I can't relate to 60s Alabama with all its rosy veneer and its cultural obsession with reckoning with race. I can relate to the 80s and Brisbane and cricket on the telly. Also, unlike BSU, this book leaned heavily on that quintessential something that being a boy is all about; it's something that my husband reminisces about all the time, and it's something entirely foreign to me, despite my less-than-girly nature. It's also something I've always slightly envied. No matter how I try, I cannot muster the same degree of fondness for youth that my husband and McCammon (and, say, Steven Spielberg) share. It makes the experience of reading something like this a tad bitter.
Clearly, that's a me thing, and not a problem with the book itself, so I'm not really docking a star for that issue. The missing star can be attributed to a pervasive silliness in many of the scenes, especially towards the end. I guess the silliness could be put down to the way a young boy sees the world (like, of course, bad guys are going to be Nazis), but it honestly made me feel like the conflicts were just cartoonish and ham-fisted attempts at moralising, especially about race. Like when the bomb fell on top of the Klansman and, with utmost predictability, the Lady and her black friends saved the day. I like magical realism when it feels implausible but true. Scenes like that just felt contrived.
Having said that, I loved the Lady. Best character by far. Loved her. And I'm sure that these scenes struck a fairytale-like chord with American audiences. Unfortunately, for me, they were just eyeroll-inducing.
It reminded me a lot of Boy Swallows Universe, a book that I gave a wholehearted five stars and still think back upon with fondness from time to time. It had many things in common. It was driven by nostalgia. It didn't mind a cheesy ending. Magical realism and mystery were scattered throughout. So what was the difference?
Really, I think it boils down to the question of nostalgia. I can't relate to 60s Alabama with all its rosy veneer and its cultural obsession with reckoning with race. I can relate to the 80s and Brisbane and cricket on the telly. Also, unlike BSU, this book leaned heavily on that quintessential something that being a boy is all about; it's something that my husband reminisces about all the time, and it's something entirely foreign to me, despite my less-than-girly nature. It's also something I've always slightly envied. No matter how I try, I cannot muster the same degree of fondness for youth that my husband and McCammon (and, say, Steven Spielberg) share. It makes the experience of reading something like this a tad bitter.
Clearly, that's a me thing, and not a problem with the book itself, so I'm not really docking a star for that issue. The missing star can be attributed to a pervasive silliness in many of the scenes, especially towards the end. I guess the silliness could be put down to the way a young boy sees the world (like, of course, bad guys are going to be Nazis), but it honestly made me feel like the conflicts were just cartoonish and ham-fisted attempts at moralising, especially about race. Like when the bomb fell on top of the Klansman and, with utmost predictability, the Lady and her black friends saved the day. I like magical realism when it feels implausible but true. Scenes like that just felt contrived.
Having said that, I loved the Lady. Best character by far. Loved her. And I'm sure that these scenes struck a fairytale-like chord with American audiences. Unfortunately, for me, they were just eyeroll-inducing.