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orourke said: In all strata of life, in every neighborhood, and every ethnicity, there seem to be common rites of passage that all boys must wend their way through in one style or another. Girls will have their own rites of passage, in some ways similar, other ways not. The rites endure, though the threats change with times. The pensive mood of this piece arises after having read Chris Lynch's "Sins of the Fathers." Lynch can be such a powerful writer (disclosure—he was a faculty member at my Vermont College MFA). The three boys of the novel form a tightly knit tribe to themselves: Drew, the narrator and most expressive, Skitz, the fatherless clown, and Hector, seemingly the strong, silent force. Drew's terrific dialog, flowing smoothly from inner to outer expression, draws the reader into almost inhabiting his physical character. The setting is a Catholic parochial school in Boston, and rough as they are, or would like to see themselves, they respect the sisters who teach there and the three parish priests who oversee the school. One of the priests is a newly assigned, young, hippie-like Jesuit, who tries to befriend the boys, and continually uses bad judgment, drinking on outings with the boys to a Bruin's hockey game, rolling a joint in Drew's presence—immature conduct, and ultimately damaging to him. The boys have some destructive habits themselves: popping St. Joseph aspirin with RC cola to get a buzz, and one of them experiments with sniffing glue. A deeper, darker theme emerges toward the end of the novel. The abuse of minors by some clergy is all too common in the news these days, but it is unfailingly wrenching with each new disclosure. One of the boys has probably endured such a betrayal, and we hope his tribe will be able to keep him from falling into an abyss of remorse and substance abuse, and that the three friends will help carry each other forward.
tags: MG novel, rites-of-passage, parochial school |
