Kilcannon
Little too muddled, especially in the middle portions, for a three-star review. Still, there are some amusing space-military hijinks, and Liam Liam is a fun character even if the other main characters are a bit dull.
I would've liked this more as a start to, or entry within, a longer series called “Liam's War.”
Robert Cormier's “I Am the Cheese” is apparently a YA staple, or was at one time. A quick search online reveals that our diminishing culture has caused it to become a regular assignment in older classes as well, appearing on the syllabi for freshman-level English classes, even.
And that's because it's a good book. As an introduction to unreliable narrators, allusion, critical thinking about government, formalistic experimentation, character development, pacing, conflict resolution, bullies, the effects of prescription drugs, stranger danger and other beginner's lessons for life and literature, it's a strong piece of writing. If you're above the age of 13, however, and it brings anything new to your life, I'd be worried . . .
Except me. I had a key gap in my knowledge that greatly diminished my enjoyment of the book. It's possible that I didn't have this gap at the age at which I should've read it. It's a simple little thing: “The Farmer in the Dell.” I only knew the first two verses. You need to know them all. And now I know, and knowing is half the battle.
Just remember that this book is for kids. Smart kids. Smart kids in the ‘70s, specifically, so some of it is a bit dated. There aren't a lot of kids these days going around talking about how they have to go to the “john,” for example. Which this kid does a lot, for some reason. He always has to go to the john. Not just the bathroom. Johnny john john. That was the only annoying little quirk in the prose that I got hung up on.
The troubled hero seems mostly appropriate for modern readers. He's less of a troublemaker than the other young characters at least, although those are limited to three cookie-cutter bullies and a love interest. The latter is a self-described mischief maker, and she engages in the kind of mildly destructive hijinks that people overreact to these days (although they are genuinely annoying and not as charming as the author seems to think).
The romance, such as it is, is perhaps a little squalid and straightforward. I could see an uptight parent getting squeamish about our hero getting to second base without a long diversion about whatever the current social concerns about such things are. But then, they might also have a problem with a young hero who shows this degree of independence in the first place.
Otherwise, the novel proceeds in a brisk, direct, coherent way toward its circular ending. Some might view it as a cheap cop out, but these clichés exist for a reason, and this is as good a primer for this type of story as any. As a kid, it would've blown my mind.
I rarely feel guilty giving a book a bad review, but I do at this time. I think it was a well-meaning book, but it was awfully trite, a little silly in parts, and it shied away from the harsh, bleak, abject realities facing people with dementia. Even the worst of Alice's moments are treated with a light, everything-will-be-okay sense of detachment ... the conclusion of how she's “still Alice” somehow serving as armor against deep panic and abjection.
And the incidents described are all, in fact, minor. There is one scene that deals with repetition. One scene that deals with the impulsive desire to go to a nonexistent home. We hit every common symptom/scenario once and then move on. It's written at a sixth grade level, which makes its message accessible to a broad audience, but also limits the author's ability to render emotions and experiences well.
My advice to readers, if they have someone in their lives with dementia, is to read it early. Because once you've been through the wringer with someone, this book isn't going to ring true.
