In Baton Rouge , Louisiana
in the summer of 1989 Lindy Simpson is living her normal life. She is a track star, she is popular, pretty,
and a good kid. Her life is predictable.
She rides her bike every day to the track to train and everyday she rides home at
the same time. But one day things don’t go according to plan and on the way
home she is attacked and raped.
Across the street and two doors down our narrator lives with
his adolescent obsession with Lindy. He
has had a crush on her since elementary school.
Back in 1989 kids could still be innocent of the ways and cruelties of
the world and our narrator is. He
doesn’t know what the word rape means, he asks of the street wise kids “what
does that mean?” and is laughed at a lot. He doesn’t know what the locker room
and street slangs mean, and suffers for it.
His family is normal and upstanding and he doesn’t have to deal with the
underbelly of life so he doesn’t understand it.
But this summer, he is learning.
As the story progresses, as our narrator tries to help
Lindy, tries to understand this thing called adolescence, we can’t help but see
his obsession with her and begin to wonder a little. Even though we know he didn’t do it, no one
in the neighborhood is above suspicion.
Sometimes he makes things worse for her.
Sometimes there is a crack in her new armor.
As I read I kept wondering whose story this was. Was it Lindy’s? She is the focus of our narrator, certainly,
and what happens to her propels the story but the narrator is holding the
steering wheel. I thought it was HIS
story. Other reviews think it’s
hers. Our narrator is given to us
perfectly. His reflection on this time
of his life, his memory, his reason for telling us this story, M. O. Walsh got
it and gave it to us.
And as I read, and by the way, I couldn’t stop reading, I
was so flooded with memories of the clumsiness of adolescent life. The sorting out of the world and our place in
it, our families, our friends, ourselves, our bodies, thinking with that
adolescent malleable brain. What a mess
that time of life is. I can’t imagine any adult wanting to live those years
over again. So, prepare yourself. In this book you do.
...ohhh...having just survived my children's adolescence this might be too soon for me right now. Just finished reading The Goldfinch......could have been a shorter book I think personally. Have you read it?
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