4.75

This book captured my attention. It's has the manic pixie dream girl trope, it has the one magical weekend, and it has someone learning about themselves at the shove of someone else's hand. It doesn't have a happy ending. It doesn't wrap itself up with a nice bow or make you feel tucked in with a warm cup of tea. Reason enough not to pick it up? Not for me. Because this book had enough heart to envelop the tropes, the strange, the heartbreak and the sad. I will pick this up again in the future. ( )

It took me awhile to get to the point where I could write this; I really needed time to absorb and process everything that had happened on top of my emotions. If any story has ever given me a book hangover, it's this one. Zelda is an unbelievable character who [a:Tommy Wallach|2126339|Tommy Wallach|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1442494054p2/2126339.jpg] somehow seems to make totally plausible and brings to live on his pages with a sort of surreal authenticity you want in a work of fiction. She truly feels like the driving force through out. A cross between a guardian angel and your subconscious self she makes Parker AND the reader reconsider how they've been living life.

Parker got a little tedious sometimes, but he was necessary, especially if this book was going to speak to people the way, I think, it does. At least it spoke to me and made me rethink some decisions, actions and emotions.

I'd highly recommend this novel to anyone and everyone, especially people who feel sort of stuck right now, like I do. ( )

3 stars

Although I usually avoid reviews before starting a new book, I’ve decided to look through what people say about this one. Now basically there’re two contrast opinions - nay, it is a typical boy meets a MPDG character, who teaches him how to embrace life and yay, it is not-not-not!, it’s totally unique, and lovely and relevant. So I was prepared to take sides, but, well, never had to.

As mostly every review has it, the story is about a teenage boy, Parker - a loner, a thief and a mute since his father’s death (trying to describe himself):

«He was just your average teenager. Or a little above average, actually. Like, you’d probably think he was cute, if you had to weigh in one way or the other. Or not cute, maybe, but not not cute either. Just, like, your normal level of cuteness. A solid seven out of ten. Maybe a B/B+ on a good day, in the right light, taking the most forgiving possible position on his too-thick eyebrows and his weirdly prominent dimples when he smiled and his slight butt chin . . .
Fuck me. This is turning into a disaster, isn’t it?»

...who meets a mysterious girl, Zelda - an old-fashioned, well-read, allegedly immortal (as described by Parker):

«She didn’t seem like a normal teenager—more like something between a space alien and a homeschooled kid. Or maybe she was just a lot older than she looked. There was this girl in my chemistry class named Laura who was half Dutch and half Native American, and she had these hands that I swear could have belonged to an old woman: weather-beaten, tanned like old leather, crosshatched with wrinkles. Basically, a palm reader’s wet dream. The silver-haired girl was a little like that, except instead of her hands seeming too old, it was her whole personality.»

Of course, he finds her enchanting, but, alas, she wants to end her enchanting self by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. As you can see, we have a whole book guessing, will he be able to stop her and will she help with his condition and is she or is she not a 246 year old granny in a body of a teenager.

So yes, it does feel much like your typical MPDG read. But Zelda's paranormal (or fantasised) immortality gives the story wisdom, experience and, hence, sadness, which just makes it so much more. And the fairy tales! Bestowing Parker with a gift for story-telling is such a great touch in creating a deeper, richer and bittersweet narration. I also quite enjoyed the mc’s sense of humor, which, though typical for this genre, is honest, cynical and, well, teenage.

Some jokes are rather straight and vulgar-ish:

«And did you know that, in the original “Sleeping Beauty,” there’s no handsome prince who rouses Sleeping Beauty with a gentle kiss? Nope! It’s actually a douche-bag king—one who already has a queen, by the way—and he rapes her. She wakes up pregnant, so the king’s wife tries to kill her, bake her into a pie, and feed her to the king. The happy ending? The king decides to have his wife burned to death so he can raise a family with Sleeping Beauty. Make a friendly animated film out of that shit, Disney.»

Others are gentler and more nuanced:

«Alana’s attention was suddenly drawn to Zelda’s right hand, which was poised to unleash a cascade of sugar into her coffee. “Hold up. You don’t drink it black?”
“Never.”
“But isn’t life already fake enough without watering it down with sugar?”
“Can something be watered down with sugar?”
Alana frowned. “Okay, that’s true. But just take one sip before you put that crud in.”
“I’ve had black coffee before.”
“I know, I know. Humor me.”
Zelda lowered her face to the rim of the mug and came up grimacing. “Yuck,” she said.
“Exactly! See, coffee is supposed to taste bad. That’s what makes it coffee.”
“I prefer the illusion,” Zelda said, and went ahead with her cream and sugar.»

Lovely, right? Coffee will never me simply coffee for me from now on.

So the verdict is, this coming of age story does indeed follow a certain genre pattern, but in a way that still makes it pleasantly elegiac and entertaining.
( )

Tommy Wallach and I discussed favourite birds, debated zombies, and perhaps discussed some of that book and music stuff over at 100% Rock Magazine!

Actual Rating 3.5

Meet Parker Santé. He’s medium cute, bad at writing in third person, and good at stealing shit from rich people. He’s not the best person you’ll ever meet, he’s also not the worst.

I mean, some things are obviously shitty, and some things are obviously nice or noble or whatever, but between the two goalposts of black and white, between punching a baby in the kidney and donating a kidney to save a baby, there’s a freaking football field’s worth of gray area.

He’s hanging out in a hotel lobby, waiting for something to steal, when he sees her. She’s about his age, pretty, has a large wad of cash, silver hair, and wears a look of perfect sadness on her face.

People usually use that word – “perfect” – to talk about good things; a perfect score on a test, or a perfect attendance record, or landing a perfect 1080. But I think it’s a way better word when it’s used to describe something – even a totally shitty something – that’s exactly the thing it’s supposed to be. Perfect morning breath. A perfect hangover. Perfect sadness.

He doesn’t speak. Can’t speak. He sees a psychologist regularly and had one session with a speech therapist, but he just can’t make the words come out. He can’t even moan or make noise when he laughs. So he writes everything in a journal. He has 104 completed journals at home, like a record of where he’s been and thoughts he’s had.

I stopped talking after my dad died, I wrote, then prepared myself for the usual things people said after I told them that.
“What a remarkably asinine thing to do.”
This was not the usual things.

Zelda tells him that she’s waiting for a call, and once it comes she’s going to give all her money to the next needy person she sees and jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. She doesn’t say this on a whim; she’s given it a lot of thought. She means to go through with it.

There’s a word in Portuguese that my dad wrote about in one of his books: saudade. It’s the sadness you feel for something that isn’t gone yet, but will be. The sadness of lost causes. The sadness of being alive.

Thus begins his mission to teach her that there are so many things to live for, his mission to change her mind. But how can you convince someone who thinks they’ve lived for hundreds of years that they haven’t seen everything.

In trying to show her it’s worth going on living, he might just get caught up in it all and realise that he hasn’t really been living, either. And that maybe it’s time to start.

The rest of this review can be found HERE! ( )

3 stars

Although I usually avoid reviews before starting a new book, I’ve decided to look through what people say about this one. Now basically there’re two contrast opinions - nay, it is a typical boy meets a MPDG character, who teaches him how to embrace life and yay, it is not-not-not!, it’s totally unique, and lovely and relevant. So I was prepared to take sides, but, well, never had to.

As mostly every review has it, the story is about a teenage boy, Parker - a loner, a thief and a mute since his father’s death (trying to describe himself):

«He was just your average teenager. Or a little above average, actually. Like, you’d probably think he was cute, if you had to weigh in one way or the other. Or not cute, maybe, but not not cute either. Just, like, your normal level of cuteness. A solid seven out of ten. Maybe a B/B+ on a good day, in the right light, taking the most forgiving possible position on his too-thick eyebrows and his weirdly prominent dimples when he smiled and his slight butt chin . . .
Fuck me. This is turning into a disaster, isn’t it?»

...who meets a mysterious girl, Zelda - an old-fashioned, well-read, allegedly immortal (as described by Parker):

«She didn’t seem like a normal teenager—more like something between a space alien and a homeschooled kid. Or maybe she was just a lot older than she looked. There was this girl in my chemistry class named Laura who was half Dutch and half Native American, and she had these hands that I swear could have belonged to an old woman: weather-beaten, tanned like old leather, crosshatched with wrinkles. Basically, a palm reader’s wet dream. The silver-haired girl was a little like that, except instead of her hands seeming too old, it was her whole personality.»

Of course, he finds her enchanting, but, alas, she wants to end her enchanting self by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. As you can see, we have a whole book guessing, will he be able to stop her and will she help with his condition and is she or is she not a 246 year old granny in a body of a teenager.

So yes, it does feel much like your typical MPDG read. But Zelda's paranormal (or fantasised) immortality gives the story wisdom, experience and, hence, sadness, which just makes it so much more. And the fairy tales! Bestowing Parker with a gift for story-telling is such a great touch in creating a deeper, richer and bittersweet narration. I also quite enjoyed the mc’s sense of humor, which, though typical for this genre, is honest, cynical and, well, teenage.

Some jokes are rather straight and vulgar-ish:

«And did you know that, in the original “Sleeping Beauty,” there’s no handsome prince who rouses Sleeping Beauty with a gentle kiss? Nope! It’s actually a douche-bag king—one who already has a queen, by the way—and he rapes her. She wakes up pregnant, so the king’s wife tries to kill her, bake her into a pie, and feed her to the king. The happy ending? The king decides to have his wife burned to death so he can raise a family with Sleeping Beauty. Make a friendly animated film out of that shit, Disney.»

Others are gentler and more nuanced:

«Alana’s attention was suddenly drawn to Zelda’s right hand, which was poised to unleash a cascade of sugar into her coffee. “Hold up. You don’t drink it black?”
“Never.”
“But isn’t life already fake enough without watering it down with sugar?”
“Can something be watered down with sugar?”
Alana frowned. “Okay, that’s true. But just take one sip before you put that crud in.”
“I’ve had black coffee before.”
“I know, I know. Humor me.”
Zelda lowered her face to the rim of the mug and came up grimacing. “Yuck,” she said.
“Exactly! See, coffee is supposed to taste bad. That’s what makes it coffee.”
“I prefer the illusion,” Zelda said, and went ahead with her cream and sugar.»

Lovely, right? Coffee will never me simply coffee for me from now on.

So the verdict is, this coming of age story does indeed follow a certain genre pattern, but in a way that still makes it pleasantly elegiac and entertaining. ( )