For reasons like this.
h/t Feminist Philosophers, a usual.
Filed under: Boys, Girls, and Nerds

For reasons like this.
h/t Feminist Philosophers, a usual.
I tagged this as Book vs. Book, but it’s really Book vs. Oeuvre, because Sarah Dessen, to me, is her own genre.
SimonPulse emblazoned the front cover of Deb Caletti’s THE SIX RULES OF MAYBE with an SLJ blurb comparing it to the best of Dessen, and a glance at the back shows that all of Caletti’s books have Dessen-esque covers in overall look even if they lack the emphasis on disembodied body parts.
“Their marketing strategy is to trick you into thinking you’re buying a Sarah Dessen book,” I told Emily (we were at Books of Wonder; I’d never read Caletti). “Works for me.”
And I know why the SLJ blurb said that: it’s that narrative mix of emotional over-articulation, rendered in very deliberate, almost trite, imagery, blended with quick and astringent judgment, so you understand right away that the smart girl who’s narrating is knowing and wry, but not so knowing and wry that she doesn’t think her high school experiences are worth metaphors. And it’s that cadence where the sentences come long and then short, like it’s all flowing out of that girl faster than she can control until she’s pulled up short by her own realizations. I thought nobody did sentence-level pacing like Dessen; Caletti sure comes close. Well. It’s tone and pacing and character fused, because it always adds up to a girl who is looking, looking, looking, and wanting, and there’re reasons why these books, despite their fundamental similarity, never get old for me.
So that’s all to the good, and Caletti maybe isn’t edited as well — multiple passages, especially early, feel overwritten in a way that Dessen rarely does — but at her best she’s quotable as hell in the way of Meg Rosoff or John Green.
But I actually think Caletti does the big picture better than Dessen usually does, and it’s because she lets her protagonist fail harder. Here’s the core piece of my favorite scene:
I wanted to open that smile up wider, to see the Hayden of the afternoon back again. But I suddenly couldn’t think of anything else to say, and the smile was retreating. He was retreating. I could feel the moment of connectedness passing, my chance being lost. I wanted to play and volley and be back in that place we had been together before, that great place. I needed something, something quick — I grasped and caught something silly and lighthearted. Silly and lighthearted would do.
“So, Hayden Renfrew. What was your most embarrassing moment?”
It sounded workable until I said it. As soon as the words slipped out I knew I had done something horribly and terribly wrong. A humiliating misstep. I felt it all in one second of pause. The night, the cigarette smoke lingering in the air, the heaviness of his thoughts — my words were inappropriate and idiotic. Oh God, why had I said that? Why, why, why? And why couldn’t you take back a moment sometimes? One little moment? Is that asking so much? God, I suddenly sounded thirteen. My red shorts and my white tank top felt young and shameful, my feet in my flip-flops did too. I felt so ashamed of my painted toenails in the streetlight.
The rest of that scene and what comes of it is perfect. And you can see everything here: that Dessen probably would’ve written this scene better, with more economy and precision (and certainly less pleading), but also that probably she wouldn’t have writt
… is totally the way I will remember Sydney Salter’s book, which in actuality is named MY BIG NOSE AND OTHER NATURAL DISASTERS. (Blog readers may recall this as the book I called out for its curly hair blunders, in what is now our most-read and most-linked post here at Underage Reading; Salter gets cool points for having a good sense of humor about the whole thing.)
I actually really didn’t like MY BIG NOSE much at first. It’s going for this breezy, contemporary tone, but I found a lot of the writing sufficiently generic at the line level that it just felt forced. The characterization, especially early on, also comes in really broad strokes in a way I found off-putting. Like, check this out:
“It’s going to be the best summer ever.” [... Hannah] fanned herself with her certificates for Outstanding Community Service, Super School Spirit, and Best Poetry. “We can relax and really discover our passions.”
“Like getting into college? Getting real work experience?” [offers the character Megan]
Who talks like that? The answer is no one.
Partly, I think the book suffered from uncertainty about how far into parody it wanted to descend. There were some priceless details; here’s one — the protagonist’s social-climbing mom is talking about a book club the higher-status moms hold — next to which I wrote, “This is almost a satire, and if it were it would be awesome”:
Mom leaned back, clutching a pillow to her chest. “I’ve been trying to swing an invitation to that book club for over a year. I read all the books just in case I get invited and people talk about previous selections.”
…But it wasn’t a satire; it gave us awesome shit like that but then also wanted us to take these characters seriously. I struggled with that.
However. MY BIG NOSE grew on me quite a bit as it went along. In part this is because it handled well some things — sexual violence, homosexuality* — that usually make an appearance in teen books only when they are The Point. Here, as in many teenagers’ actual lives, they are important parts of the pastiche of what our main character and her friends experience — and Salter takes them as seriously as they deserve — without being the dominant features of our hero’s life. This felt to me both convincing and refreshing.
The best part of this book, though, for me, was a so fully awesome scene that inspired the title of this post. It is a very extended, deeply hilarious depiction of what happens when our hero goes to yoga class while forced onto her mother’s cabbage soup diet. The gaseous results are reported to us in detail. In a book for girls! So rare!
It’s kind of like how masturbation is a staple of realistic-genre books for teen boys, but if I ask you about female characters masturbating, what will you say? That’s right, DEENIE. Which was published in 1973. Cheers to Salter for, thirty five years later, taking another little step forward in popular culture portraying girls as possessing bodily functions.
* By the way, one way that blogging has changed my book reading is that I am more accountable to my predictions about where a book is going (even when they’re pathetically off base). It was on page 101 of this book that I noted, “I think I had called [character] = gay before this, but now I am WRITING IT DOWN.” Sixty six pages later we get the scoop for real. I mention this because, now that I am in the habit of writing down my predictions, I’m wondering how many books I feel like “Oh, I saw that coming!” about, but only because I predicted like twenty different mutually exclusive plot developments, one of which actually occurred. Now we will be able to track this. Stay tuned.
Posted in Blume, Judy, Boys, Girls, and Nerds, Deenie, Flawed does not preclude Interesting, My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters, Salter, Sydney
This was a great post : ) I spend a lot of time trying to get my ninth-graders to explain why they don’t like a particular book, and even more time trying to convince them to keep going if they’re not enthralled by the third or fourth page. This book sounds like one I’d definitely like to read (for a variety of reasons–your point about “Deenie” is one I never really thought about before … that’s crazy, but it’s true!).
Yeah, you know, I always feel I should be more willing to put books down (so much else to read!), but I’m glad I finished this one. Ditto John Green’s An Abundance of Katherines; the two are the books I’ve come closest to abandoning since starting the blog. There’s something to be said, though, for sticking it out even as a way to think about what exactly isn’t working for me. (That might be truer for me, as a book blogger, than it is for your ninth-graders, though!)
Well, Elizabeth… Swoon tackles masturbation. Not in explicit detail, but it does. All the more reason for you to read it now!
I’m sold!!!!!
Haha!
Oh, man, I loved Deenie just because of that detail. Well, also it was a good book, but it was pretty much the only one I could think of where a girl masturbated. Actually that’s the book that made me realize that ok, I’m not some weird freak for doing it, I’m totally normal, thank god.
Does anybody actually remember Deenie for anything else? I mean, it’s a good book and all, but… Like, there are lots of reasons I *liked* reading Forever, but does anybody *remember* it for reasons other than the sex?
Er…scoliosis? I just remember the details of Deenie’s back brace and how much I didn’t want to have it.
Though I kind of had to think for a moment to even get that much out of it.
Also whenever Deenie was nervous she’d need to go to the bathroom but she met this girl who would feel nervous and get itchy. Or do I have that backwards?
Okay, you’re right… I remember the scoliosis too. And Deenie having to walk across the room with a book on her head, and not being able to do it.
(Walking across the room with a book on your head is an activity I picked up at an early age, although it was less from Deenie and more because I read that Sweet Valley Twins where they sign up for charm school (!) at least eight times.)
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