Genuine Fraud by E. Lockhart (2017)
When the story begins, Jule is relaxing at a resort in Mexico. We know that she was best friends with Imogen, who has committed suicide, and that she's on the run. The story is told backwards, each chapter taking place before the previous one (and they are even numbered backwards), and each one revealing more of Jule's story.
It's very difficult to write about this book without giving away too much, but there are a few things I can tell you. Jule and Immie's friendship was not a healthy one. Jule is dishonest about who she is, in different ways to different people. The story travels between places like Martha's Vineyard and London and Puerto Rico. Immie is very rich and Jule is not. Crimes are committed.
Neither Jule nor Immie were likeable at all, at least from my perspective. I didn't hate them, they just both had issues and I wouldn't want to be friends with them. But I did like reading about them! In fact, I kind of wanted more. I'll admit the book left me a little unsatisfied, partly because I didn't feel I got enough of either of them. There were a couple of other characters in the book also, Immie's boyfriend Forrest and another friend named Brooke. I didn't get to know Brooke very well, but I didn't especially like Forrest. The cast of unlikeable characters actually added to the mystery of the story rather than detract from my reading pleasure, which was a nice surprise.
I was skeptical of the backwards format and thought I would be confused, but it wasn't confusing at all. Each chapter began by saying how far before the last chapter it took place, so I was always oriented. I really appreciated that, and I think telling the story in that order worked well.
Reviews characterized Genuine Fraud as a thriller and claimed it was suspenseful, neither of which I agree with. I went into it expected more suspense, more tension, more surprises but that's not what disappointed me. A story told backward like this, revealing more itself as it goes is still interesting even without shocking surprises - it can be more about the how and why. However, I didn't get enough of that. I still don't understand Jule's motivations here, nor did we ever get the full story of her childhood which was alluded to so many times.
It was fun to read - I definitely wanted to just drop everything and spend every moment with this book! But it also left me wanting more. It's a good book that I enjoyed reading, but for me it doesn't live up to either We Were Liars or The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks.
Showing posts with label e. lockhart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label e. lockhart. Show all posts
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
We Were Liars
We Were Liars by E. Lockhart (2014)
I first experienced this book on audio last year soon after it came out, and was kind of blown away. E. Lockhart wrote one of my all-time favorite young adult novels, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, so I was eager for her new offering and boy, it was a totally different kind of story. My Not-So-Young Adult Book Group at work chose We Were Liars for this month so I just read it again, in print this time. For a summary and my thoughts after listening to the audiobook, go here.
This is a book filled with secrets that you learn only at the end, so re-reading it is truly a different experience. Fortunately, there's enough to love that the experience isn't diminished just because I actually know what is going on this time.
One difficulty I had when listening to the audio is that I would sometimes be confused about which parts of the story took place in the present and which were in the fateful "summer fifteen." (Not because the book made it unclear, but because I am not a fantastic listener.) In print, I always knew which time period I was reading about, and I think this improved my experience.
Because I knew all the secrets this time, throughout the book I looked for clues and was delighted every time I read something and thought "How did I not notice this before?" But they were subtle. You are a clever one, E. Lockhart.
This time I was struck, even more, by the dysfunction in this family. They are wealthy and privileged and clearly want to preserve their family in very specific ways. Gat is an outsider not only because he's not related but because he's Indian. He is welcome in theory, but never really belongs. The family also obviously doesn't handle trauma well. After Cadence's Granny Tipper died, the family just erased her from conversation rather than acknowledge the loss. No wonder it's so difficult for Cady to figure out what happened to her two summers ago.
Most people in my book group had read this for the first time. I got some early feedback from one person who thought the book was a bit too dark, but everyone seemed to really like it nonethless. This is a really great book for discussion. There is so much to talk about!
I first experienced this book on audio last year soon after it came out, and was kind of blown away. E. Lockhart wrote one of my all-time favorite young adult novels, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, so I was eager for her new offering and boy, it was a totally different kind of story. My Not-So-Young Adult Book Group at work chose We Were Liars for this month so I just read it again, in print this time. For a summary and my thoughts after listening to the audiobook, go here.
This is a book filled with secrets that you learn only at the end, so re-reading it is truly a different experience. Fortunately, there's enough to love that the experience isn't diminished just because I actually know what is going on this time.
One difficulty I had when listening to the audio is that I would sometimes be confused about which parts of the story took place in the present and which were in the fateful "summer fifteen." (Not because the book made it unclear, but because I am not a fantastic listener.) In print, I always knew which time period I was reading about, and I think this improved my experience.
Because I knew all the secrets this time, throughout the book I looked for clues and was delighted every time I read something and thought "How did I not notice this before?" But they were subtle. You are a clever one, E. Lockhart.
This time I was struck, even more, by the dysfunction in this family. They are wealthy and privileged and clearly want to preserve their family in very specific ways. Gat is an outsider not only because he's not related but because he's Indian. He is welcome in theory, but never really belongs. The family also obviously doesn't handle trauma well. After Cadence's Granny Tipper died, the family just erased her from conversation rather than acknowledge the loss. No wonder it's so difficult for Cady to figure out what happened to her two summers ago.
Most people in my book group had read this for the first time. I got some early feedback from one person who thought the book was a bit too dark, but everyone seemed to really like it nonethless. This is a really great book for discussion. There is so much to talk about!
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Thursday, June 19, 2014
We Were Liars
We Were Liars by E. Lockhart (2014), narrated by Ariadne Meyers
Cadence Sinclair Eastman has grown up in a wealthy family and spends her summers on their private island off the coast of Massachusetts. She is close to her cousins, Johnny and Mirren, and two summers ago was beginning a romance with Gat, the nephew of her aunt's boyfriend. But something happened that summer that Cady can't remember. There was an accident from which she still hasn't recovered, and this summer she returns to the island and through the haze of her migraines she tries to piece it together.
On the surface, Cady's life is pretty sweet. I mean, her family owns an entire island. Cady's mother and both of her aunts each have their own large house on the island, while her grandfather, the patriarch, rules over this domain from his own large house. They all come to the island every summer, their regular lives fading off into the background for those few, magical months.
But just like any family, they have their share of unhappinesses. Cady's father left them, an event she describes as him shooting her through the heart (and indeed, her narration is filled with bloody metaphors). And of course, this mysterious accident that nobody will talk about, but which seems to have changed her family somehow. Even her cousins and Gat aren't as bright and fun-loving this summer as they have been in the past.
Whenever I read fiction in which somebody has memory problems after a traumatic event, I wonder how realistic it is. I know that our minds do strange things, but I'm never sure if it's the kinds of things portrayed in fiction. Nevertheless, the mystery and Cady's determination to figure it out propelled me through the story.
Despite her head injury, Cady was a recognizable teenager. She was desperately in love with Gat and upset that he didn't contact her after her accident (never mind that she didn't try to contact him either.) She argued with her grandfather when she learned that the small animal statues in each of their houses were made from ivory, lecturing him about the evils of hunting elephants. She also remained so wrapped up in her own life that it was hard for her to see what was going on with everyone else.
I like the relationship between Cady and her grandpa. It wasn't a great relationship in many ways, but he still came across kind of positively. His problems with dementia mirrored her own memory problems and I found it quite sweet the day they took the boat to Edgartown for fudge though neither of them were supposed to be boating. It was like their own tiny little conspiracy.
This was probably the quickest I've ever raced through an audiobook, because I just had to find out what was going on. Then I just wanted to talk to everyone I knew who had read it - it's just that kind of book. It's very different than the one other book I've read by E. Lockhart, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. This one is clearly more successful, but I think I prefer Frankie Landau-Banks, just out of my deep admiration of her character. Still, there is good reason this book is hot right now, so readers of YA fiction will not want to miss it.
Cadence Sinclair Eastman has grown up in a wealthy family and spends her summers on their private island off the coast of Massachusetts. She is close to her cousins, Johnny and Mirren, and two summers ago was beginning a romance with Gat, the nephew of her aunt's boyfriend. But something happened that summer that Cady can't remember. There was an accident from which she still hasn't recovered, and this summer she returns to the island and through the haze of her migraines she tries to piece it together.
On the surface, Cady's life is pretty sweet. I mean, her family owns an entire island. Cady's mother and both of her aunts each have their own large house on the island, while her grandfather, the patriarch, rules over this domain from his own large house. They all come to the island every summer, their regular lives fading off into the background for those few, magical months.
But just like any family, they have their share of unhappinesses. Cady's father left them, an event she describes as him shooting her through the heart (and indeed, her narration is filled with bloody metaphors). And of course, this mysterious accident that nobody will talk about, but which seems to have changed her family somehow. Even her cousins and Gat aren't as bright and fun-loving this summer as they have been in the past.
Whenever I read fiction in which somebody has memory problems after a traumatic event, I wonder how realistic it is. I know that our minds do strange things, but I'm never sure if it's the kinds of things portrayed in fiction. Nevertheless, the mystery and Cady's determination to figure it out propelled me through the story.
Despite her head injury, Cady was a recognizable teenager. She was desperately in love with Gat and upset that he didn't contact her after her accident (never mind that she didn't try to contact him either.) She argued with her grandfather when she learned that the small animal statues in each of their houses were made from ivory, lecturing him about the evils of hunting elephants. She also remained so wrapped up in her own life that it was hard for her to see what was going on with everyone else.
I like the relationship between Cady and her grandpa. It wasn't a great relationship in many ways, but he still came across kind of positively. His problems with dementia mirrored her own memory problems and I found it quite sweet the day they took the boat to Edgartown for fudge though neither of them were supposed to be boating. It was like their own tiny little conspiracy.
This was probably the quickest I've ever raced through an audiobook, because I just had to find out what was going on. Then I just wanted to talk to everyone I knew who had read it - it's just that kind of book. It's very different than the one other book I've read by E. Lockhart, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. This one is clearly more successful, but I think I prefer Frankie Landau-Banks, just out of my deep admiration of her character. Still, there is good reason this book is hot right now, so readers of YA fiction will not want to miss it.
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Monday, November 12, 2012
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart (2008)
Disreputable History remains one of my favorite young adult novels, and Frankie may well be my favorite YA heroine. I already reviewed this book a little over a year ago, but since I just re-read it for my Not-So-Young Adult book group for work I thought I'd add a few thoughts.
I loved the concept of the panopticon, introduced early in the book. In her class "Cities, Art, and Protest," Frankie learned that architect Jeremy Bentham designed (but never built) a prison that would allow watchmen to see all the prisoners without them knowing whether or not they were being watched. This means they would constantly feel like they're being watched whether or not they actually were, and this paranoia would reduce the amount of actual watching needed. Michel Foucault applied this idea to Western society because so many of our institutions operate like a panopticon - hospitals, factories, offices, schools. Like Alabaster Prep. This concept became a theme throughout the novel, and was helpful to Frankie as she planned her mal-doings.
I think what struck me the most upon a second reading is just how calculating Frankie is. Planning large-scale pranks without anyone (including the participants) knowing who is behind them is a challenge that requires a fairly high level is scheming, of course. But holding together a relationship with the head of the organization you are undermining without appearing to be a clingy or bitchy girlfriend also requires careful planning. During several uncomfortable conversations with Matthew, Frankie thought about what she wanted, what he wanted, and how to get him to do what she wanted without feeling like he is being manipulated or pressured by his girlfriend. She thought about how pathetic girls somehow seemed around their boyfriends, and how transparent their desperation. A lot would go through Frankie's mind in the few seconds she had to formulate thoughts during a conversation.
In my earlier review, I mentioned Frankie's feminism, which is more nuanced upon a second reading. (And I should mention that my first "reading" was on audio, and therefore I probably missed a few things.) There is a scene in which Frankie's roommate Trish told her that she was uninterested in the exclusive boys' club parties, preferring instead to bake fruit crumbles. Although Trish was just doing what she preferred to do, Frankie was horrified that not only was Trish lessening the chances of continued invitations to these parties, but she was leading them to expect fresh dessert upon their return. It's so easy to see how Frankie comes to these conclusions, yet she keeps being trapped by her own logic. She doesn't want to be manipulated by boys, and so makes decisions based not on what she wants, but on not wanting to be manipulated, which is of course just another type of manipulation. But Frankie is still a teenage girl, and despite her over-analysis of every situation, when Matthew compliments her "most of her simply felt happy that he had put his arm around her and told her he thought she was pretty."
Frankie was drawn to Matthew and his friends because their elite and moneyed status freed them from so many of the constraints that applied to others. Yet they're not nearly as smart as she is, nor as socially aware. Matthew criticizes Frankie for overthinking, and seems displeased when she acts unconventionally. As much as Frankie doesn't want to be "put into a box" by Matthew and his friends or do what they want her to do, she is desperate to be accepted by them, to be one of the boys. Because the male gender is more powerful in her view, she needs them to legitimize her as an equal. And although she can't accept the patriarchal status quo, her constant drive to shake things up contributes to her unhappiness. The more I think about it, Frankie's situation at Alabaster Prep is just a microcosm of feminism in society.
Oh dear. I appear to have written an academic treatise. There is a lot going on in this book, and a great deal of fodder for discussion and analysis. And still some people can't seem to take young adult fiction seriously. They don't know what they're missing!
Disreputable History remains one of my favorite young adult novels, and Frankie may well be my favorite YA heroine. I already reviewed this book a little over a year ago, but since I just re-read it for my Not-So-Young Adult book group for work I thought I'd add a few thoughts.
I loved the concept of the panopticon, introduced early in the book. In her class "Cities, Art, and Protest," Frankie learned that architect Jeremy Bentham designed (but never built) a prison that would allow watchmen to see all the prisoners without them knowing whether or not they were being watched. This means they would constantly feel like they're being watched whether or not they actually were, and this paranoia would reduce the amount of actual watching needed. Michel Foucault applied this idea to Western society because so many of our institutions operate like a panopticon - hospitals, factories, offices, schools. Like Alabaster Prep. This concept became a theme throughout the novel, and was helpful to Frankie as she planned her mal-doings.
I think what struck me the most upon a second reading is just how calculating Frankie is. Planning large-scale pranks without anyone (including the participants) knowing who is behind them is a challenge that requires a fairly high level is scheming, of course. But holding together a relationship with the head of the organization you are undermining without appearing to be a clingy or bitchy girlfriend also requires careful planning. During several uncomfortable conversations with Matthew, Frankie thought about what she wanted, what he wanted, and how to get him to do what she wanted without feeling like he is being manipulated or pressured by his girlfriend. She thought about how pathetic girls somehow seemed around their boyfriends, and how transparent their desperation. A lot would go through Frankie's mind in the few seconds she had to formulate thoughts during a conversation.
In my earlier review, I mentioned Frankie's feminism, which is more nuanced upon a second reading. (And I should mention that my first "reading" was on audio, and therefore I probably missed a few things.) There is a scene in which Frankie's roommate Trish told her that she was uninterested in the exclusive boys' club parties, preferring instead to bake fruit crumbles. Although Trish was just doing what she preferred to do, Frankie was horrified that not only was Trish lessening the chances of continued invitations to these parties, but she was leading them to expect fresh dessert upon their return. It's so easy to see how Frankie comes to these conclusions, yet she keeps being trapped by her own logic. She doesn't want to be manipulated by boys, and so makes decisions based not on what she wants, but on not wanting to be manipulated, which is of course just another type of manipulation. But Frankie is still a teenage girl, and despite her over-analysis of every situation, when Matthew compliments her "most of her simply felt happy that he had put his arm around her and told her he thought she was pretty."
Frankie was drawn to Matthew and his friends because their elite and moneyed status freed them from so many of the constraints that applied to others. Yet they're not nearly as smart as she is, nor as socially aware. Matthew criticizes Frankie for overthinking, and seems displeased when she acts unconventionally. As much as Frankie doesn't want to be "put into a box" by Matthew and his friends or do what they want her to do, she is desperate to be accepted by them, to be one of the boys. Because the male gender is more powerful in her view, she needs them to legitimize her as an equal. And although she can't accept the patriarchal status quo, her constant drive to shake things up contributes to her unhappiness. The more I think about it, Frankie's situation at Alabaster Prep is just a microcosm of feminism in society.
Oh dear. I appear to have written an academic treatise. There is a lot going on in this book, and a great deal of fodder for discussion and analysis. And still some people can't seem to take young adult fiction seriously. They don't know what they're missing!
Monday, September 19, 2011
The Basset is a hardy beast, we vow our loyalty to the end
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart (2008)
The admissions department at Alabaster Prep had no idea what they were getting into by admitting Frankie Landau-Banks to their school. Sure, Frankie was following family tradition by attending the school, but there were other traditions she was less content to follow. Take the Loyal Order of the Basset Hounds, for instance. This secret society was responsible for many brilliant pranks over the years, but its male-only membership insured that Frankie could never take part. Or did it?
As Frankie begins her freshman year at Alabaster, Matthew Livingstone finally notices her, thanks to what her mother euphemistically refers to as Frankie "filling out" over the summer. As much as she enjoys the attention of her new boyfriend, Frankie continues to be frustrated by the assumptions everyone makes about her intelligence, her interests, the kind of person she is, her vulnerabilities. Even Matthew and his friends don't seem to take her seriously or understand what she is capable of. But before the year is out, Frankie will show everyone at her school exactly what she is made of.
Frankie is a brilliant young woman, but still down-to-earth and quirky. I love that she regularly uses neglected positives: maculate, the opposite of immaculate; sufferable, the opposite of insufferable; and so forth, her favorite being the false neglected positive "gruntled" which she picked up from reading P.G. Wodehouse. I love that she reads P.G. Wodehouse.
Matthew doesn't seem to appreciate her worth, and honestly their whole romance was rather unconvincing. We were told, rather than shown, how much Frankie loved him. But this was a minor plot point, as I imagine that romance would always be a minor plot point in Frankie's life. She has more important things to do.
Not that Frankie has everything figured out. She is so focused on her antics she doesn't think through the consequences. And though confident, she still turns to her older sister Zada for advice. My favorite piece of wisdom? When Matthew gives Frankie a t-shirt Zada says "he's marking his territory, like a dog peeing on a fire hydrant."
The novel opens with Frankie's letter of confession as the sole mastermind behind such mal-doings as the Night of a Thousand Dogs, the Canned Beet Rebellion, and the abduction of the Guppy. Are you inspired by students who practice civil disobedience against a patriarchal establishment? If so you'll love this story of how a young woman, whose well-meaning parents continue to call her "bunny rabbit," manages to seize control of a secret society and manipulate it to her own ends. And as she says in her letter, "I am not asking that you indulge my behavior; merely that you do not dulge it without considering its context."
The admissions department at Alabaster Prep had no idea what they were getting into by admitting Frankie Landau-Banks to their school. Sure, Frankie was following family tradition by attending the school, but there were other traditions she was less content to follow. Take the Loyal Order of the Basset Hounds, for instance. This secret society was responsible for many brilliant pranks over the years, but its male-only membership insured that Frankie could never take part. Or did it?
As Frankie begins her freshman year at Alabaster, Matthew Livingstone finally notices her, thanks to what her mother euphemistically refers to as Frankie "filling out" over the summer. As much as she enjoys the attention of her new boyfriend, Frankie continues to be frustrated by the assumptions everyone makes about her intelligence, her interests, the kind of person she is, her vulnerabilities. Even Matthew and his friends don't seem to take her seriously or understand what she is capable of. But before the year is out, Frankie will show everyone at her school exactly what she is made of.
Frankie is a brilliant young woman, but still down-to-earth and quirky. I love that she regularly uses neglected positives: maculate, the opposite of immaculate; sufferable, the opposite of insufferable; and so forth, her favorite being the false neglected positive "gruntled" which she picked up from reading P.G. Wodehouse. I love that she reads P.G. Wodehouse.
Matthew doesn't seem to appreciate her worth, and honestly their whole romance was rather unconvincing. We were told, rather than shown, how much Frankie loved him. But this was a minor plot point, as I imagine that romance would always be a minor plot point in Frankie's life. She has more important things to do.
Not that Frankie has everything figured out. She is so focused on her antics she doesn't think through the consequences. And though confident, she still turns to her older sister Zada for advice. My favorite piece of wisdom? When Matthew gives Frankie a t-shirt Zada says "he's marking his territory, like a dog peeing on a fire hydrant."
The novel opens with Frankie's letter of confession as the sole mastermind behind such mal-doings as the Night of a Thousand Dogs, the Canned Beet Rebellion, and the abduction of the Guppy. Are you inspired by students who practice civil disobedience against a patriarchal establishment? If so you'll love this story of how a young woman, whose well-meaning parents continue to call her "bunny rabbit," manages to seize control of a secret society and manipulate it to her own ends. And as she says in her letter, "I am not asking that you indulge my behavior; merely that you do not dulge it without considering its context."
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