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The World of Normal Boys #1
The World of Normal Boys
The time is the late 1970s -- an age of gas shortages, head shops, and Saturday Night Fever. The place, suburban New Jersey. At a time when the teenagers around him are coming of age, Robin MacKenzie is coming undone. While "normal boys" are into cars, sports, and bullying their classmates, Robin enjoys day trips to New York City with his elegant mother, spinning fantastic tales for her amusement in an intimate ritual he has come to love. He dutifully plays the role of the good son for his meat-and-potatoes father, even as his own mind is a jumble of sexual confusion and painful self-doubt. But everything changes in one, horrifying instant when a tragic accident wakes his family from their middle-American dream and plunges them into a spiral of slow destruction.
As his family falls apart day by day, Robin finds himself pulling away from the unquestioned, unexamined life that has been carefully laid out for him. Small acts of rebellion lead to larger questions of what it means to stand on his own. Falling into a fevered triangle with two other outcasts, Todd Spicer and Scott Schatz, Robin embarks on an explosive odyssey of sexual self-discovery that will take him beyond the spring-green lawns of suburbia, beyond the fraying fabric barely holding together his quickly unraveling family, and into a complex future, beyond the world of normal boys.
As his family falls apart day by day, Robin finds himself pulling away from the unquestioned, unexamined life that has been carefully laid out for him. Small acts of rebellion lead to larger questions of what it means to stand on his own. Falling into a fevered triangle with two other outcasts, Todd Spicer and Scott Schatz, Robin embarks on an explosive odyssey of sexual self-discovery that will take him beyond the spring-green lawns of suburbia, beyond the fraying fabric barely holding together his quickly unraveling family, and into a complex future, beyond the world of normal boys.
Hardcover
First published January 1, 2000
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4631 people want to read
About the author
K.M. Soehnlein
5 books147 followersK.M. Soehnlein's next novel, ARMY OF LOVERS, will be published on October 11, 2022 by Amble Press.
Advanced Praise for ARMY OF LOVERS:
"Soehnlein delivers a sprawling portrait of our darkest days, capturing all the anger and heartbreak and heroic love that forged who we are today. If you want to know how it felt, read this.”
—Armistead Maupin, author of TALES OF THE CITY
“Just when a moment in history is about to be forgotten, an author comes along to capture its passions and struggles and hope. Soehnlein has performed that magic for readers here. ARMY OF LOVERS will become essential reading for years to come. Read it now; be moved, enraptured, emboldened, and reminded what it was like to be young at a turning point in history.”
—Andrew Sean Greer, Pulitzer Prize winning author of LESS IS LOST
K.M. Soehnlein is the author of THE WORLD OF NORMAL BOYS, winner of the Lambda Award for Gay Men's Fiction; its sequel, ROBIN AND RUBY, an Indie Next Bookstore Selection; and YOU CAN SAY YOU KNEW ME WHEN, praised by The L.A. Times as "a dense, enjoyable read, like one of those famed Beat road trips: pedal to the metal until the next inspired digression."
He is the recipient of the Henfield Prize for short fiction and an SFFILM/Rainin Foundation Grant for screenwriting. His play, OUT OF SITE: SOMA, co-written with Seth Eisen, was performed on the streets of San Francisco and over Zoom in 2019 and 2020.
His stories and essays have appeared in the anthologies WHO'S YER DADDY?: GAY WRITERS CELEBRATE THEIR MENTORS AND FORERUNNERS, which received a Lambda Award; GIRLS WHO LIKE BOYS WHO LIKE BOYS; BOYS TO MEN: GAY MEN WRITE ABOUT GROWING UP; LOVE, CASTRO STREET; and BOOKMARK NOW. His journalism has appeared in Queerty, San Francisco Chronicle, Out, The Village Voice, San Francisco Magazine, 7x7, and more.
Raised in New Jersey, K.M. Soehnlein now lives in San Francisco, where he teaches at the University of San Francisco and enjoys life with his husband, Kevin Clarke.
Advanced Praise for ARMY OF LOVERS:
"Soehnlein delivers a sprawling portrait of our darkest days, capturing all the anger and heartbreak and heroic love that forged who we are today. If you want to know how it felt, read this.”
—Armistead Maupin, author of TALES OF THE CITY
“Just when a moment in history is about to be forgotten, an author comes along to capture its passions and struggles and hope. Soehnlein has performed that magic for readers here. ARMY OF LOVERS will become essential reading for years to come. Read it now; be moved, enraptured, emboldened, and reminded what it was like to be young at a turning point in history.”
—Andrew Sean Greer, Pulitzer Prize winning author of LESS IS LOST
K.M. Soehnlein is the author of THE WORLD OF NORMAL BOYS, winner of the Lambda Award for Gay Men's Fiction; its sequel, ROBIN AND RUBY, an Indie Next Bookstore Selection; and YOU CAN SAY YOU KNEW ME WHEN, praised by The L.A. Times as "a dense, enjoyable read, like one of those famed Beat road trips: pedal to the metal until the next inspired digression."
He is the recipient of the Henfield Prize for short fiction and an SFFILM/Rainin Foundation Grant for screenwriting. His play, OUT OF SITE: SOMA, co-written with Seth Eisen, was performed on the streets of San Francisco and over Zoom in 2019 and 2020.
His stories and essays have appeared in the anthologies WHO'S YER DADDY?: GAY WRITERS CELEBRATE THEIR MENTORS AND FORERUNNERS, which received a Lambda Award; GIRLS WHO LIKE BOYS WHO LIKE BOYS; BOYS TO MEN: GAY MEN WRITE ABOUT GROWING UP; LOVE, CASTRO STREET; and BOOKMARK NOW. His journalism has appeared in Queerty, San Francisco Chronicle, Out, The Village Voice, San Francisco Magazine, 7x7, and more.
Raised in New Jersey, K.M. Soehnlein now lives in San Francisco, where he teaches at the University of San Francisco and enjoys life with his husband, Kevin Clarke.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 155 reviews
January 28, 2016
Posted at Shelf Inflicted
I've read lots of coming-of-age stories, but none have dredged up as many sweet and painful memories as this one has. The author has done an amazing job bringing the 70's to life and creating a character that is so believable and so easy to identify and connect with.
Robin MacKenzie is 13 years old and living in a New Jersey suburb with his parents, brother and sister. In many ways he is a typical teenager, wanting to make friends, fit in, and be “cool”. Though Robin is gay, this is a truly universal story about growing up, discovering one’s sexuality, and finding one’s way in the world. It is about friendship, family relationships, grief, guilt, and coping with loss.
There are a variety of well-drawn and dynamic secondary characters with their own baggage that make Robin’s life difficult and help contribute to his growth. This is a wonderful, thought-provoking, rich and compelling story that very accurately portrays the life of a confused and troubled teen.
I am looking forward to the sequel.
November 5, 2016
The World of Normal Boys is the coming of age story of Robin, a 13 year old boy growing up in a New Jersey suburb. He finds himself struggling to fit into the world of normal boys. PE class, sports, normal rough housing that boys do, talking about girls. It just doesn't feel right to him. How is he suppose to fit into that world.
First, this is a great book and I simply could not put it down. It's beautifully written and is VERY powerful. But a warning, it's a difficult read. The story is not about rainbows and sunshine. It's a real and compelling look at growing up gay in the 70's. Of being 13 and gay and realizing you have absolutely no where to turn for support. I doubt anyone can read this book and not in some way be changed by it.
You positively MUST read this book!
First, this is a great book and I simply could not put it down. It's beautifully written and is VERY powerful. But a warning, it's a difficult read. The story is not about rainbows and sunshine. It's a real and compelling look at growing up gay in the 70's. Of being 13 and gay and realizing you have absolutely no where to turn for support. I doubt anyone can read this book and not in some way be changed by it.
You positively MUST read this book!
April 6, 2018
“This is life. Let me tell you something: life is going to be hard. It’s going to be hard every day. That’s what life is. You get up, it’s another day, you don’t know what is going to land in your lap, but you can bet your last nickel that some of it is going to be difficult. Just get used to it”
The World of Normal Boys was such a great and hard ride. It started slow and it didn’t set a good pace until chapter 5 but once it got there it didn’t disappoint.
Soehnlein makes you feel as if you were Robin, as if you were 13 years old again, as if you were falling for the first time, as if you were upsetting your parents and friends for the first time. And he does it so well that you literally suffer with every new chapter, you literally get the butterflies and you desperately don’t want this incredible journey to end but when it does you are slapped with reality. It’s just there, in your face. And you just love it and think that’s the best way to end a book. It was actually not an ending, it was a beginning. A powerful one.
I bet being 13 back in 1978 wasn’t easy, especially if you fancied arts and you were attracted to boys. But owing it? I guess that’s the most difficult part of it all. Kudos to the author for creating an apparently weak and vulnerable boy who’s stronger than what you think. Robin’s evolution and growth is so well done that you go from hating him (at times) to loving him to then feeling damn proud of him.
Let’s not forget the amazing secondary characters. Robin’s mom (Kats favourite) was at times infuriating and I spent a good part of the book hating her but you know what they say about judging others before you walk on their shoes?
This book has a lesson for everyone, it doesn’t matter if you are a teen yourself or a parent, there is a lesson in this book that you need to learn. It will make you think and it will make you reconsider a lot of things.
BR with Kat, thanks for the ride! <3
Life is mostly bad because people are capable of terrible things
January 4, 2024
✰ 3.75 stars ✰
“God, give me a new life. This one isn’t working for me.
He waits for a merciful bolt of lightning to strike his brain, to offer him some clue as to how it all works, this whole world of normal boys.”
I honestly haven't been this conflicted about my true thoughts for a book in quite awhile. I can't deny that Robin's story seeped into my soul so much that I do feel that it does deserve a higher rating. I really did like it. And yet, on the other hand, a part of me still felt a tad bit uncomfortable that I was reading the sexual exploits of a thirteen-year-old boy. But then, the rational part of me argues that 'Amina, you're not a thirteen-year-old boy. You don't know how their mind works or what they go through as they explore their own sexuality. Why should you be so offended about it, when it's his life - his journey?' 😔 For it is Robin's young age - that cusp of entering his teenage years during the late 70s in suburban New Jersey - that makes this such a poignant and heart-wrenching coming-of-age novel, as he faces the many diverse and conflicting familial and emotional and physical challenges of what it means to belong in The World of Normal Boys.
“Risk. It’s more than just a list of things to do—it’s a whole way of life, a ride off the map.”
There's something honestly quite moving about coming-of-age stories - the way the characters are on the threshold of innocence and one pivotal and crucial moment can catapult their life into another direction - that path of self-discovery and the important significant life-changing lessons they learn along the way. 😔 And here, it was no exception. It starts off innocently enough. Robin about to start freshman year with his off-set attraction to his much older neighbor, seventeen-year-old Todd Spicer, and the occasional teasing from his younger brother, Jackson and their equally aggressive and taunting cousin, Larry. It starts off tenderly as Robin gently writes out what he wants to achieve in this new school year - what are the things he wants to accomplish to be worthy of himself - to prove that he can be normal like other boys and fit into the crowd. It starts off --- and then, without warning, the writing really draws you into Robin's world - the writing that is the true champion of this debut novel. 💔💔
With such a visceral grip, the writing elevates what life is like for Robin - so visually expressive, it allows you to get inside his head as he struggles with the growing pains and pangs with questions of the heart and the conflicting emotions he faces. I felt like my heart was in its clutches the entire time - lost in the words that transported me into his life of 1978 - jiving to Saturday Night Fever, the raw pull towards the glitz and glamor of New York, the quiet suburban lifestyle of normalcy. 🤌🏻🤌🏻 But, when an unprecedented tragedy strikes the family, it immerses you even further into his thoughts that I found impossible to turn away. It was an intense emotional character-driven story that left me a little imbalanced after reading, leaving me to wonder why I had put off reading this for so long. The author's writing style was so achingly real in its portrayal of Robin that his pain became my pain - his struggles became my struggles. 😢😢
“Most people think that life offers you endless opportunities to get what you want, but Robin thinks there are endless possibilities for it all to be taken away.”
Robin was such a real character, the biggest strength lay in his voice. I empathize with his emotional frustrations, his raw anger at feeling different without meaning to be, his aching desire just to be accepted as he is, his longing just to be recognized for who he is, and still trying to find a place for himself how he is. 😟 The almost toxic-if not tumultuous friendships he starts up with Todd 'an object of fascination and also a source of great confusion', and his elusive yet wildly impulsive classmate, Scott Schatz also propels him even deeper in exploring the waters of his confusing sexuality. The way he indulges in their advances, trying to get a sense of what it is that he is - trying to explain his attractions and channel how much of their feelings for him are real or not.
His emotions were so very palpable; he pulled me into his life and his thoughts and his conflicting feelings. I may have been a spectator to his story, but it didn't mean my heart did not ache for him. All he wanted was to be normal - all he wanted was just to live a normal life, but every time he tried, something else came in his way. 'He is unexpectedly struck by the notion that he was a child here, that he is not a child, not in the same way. He wonders, how did this happen? I didn’t plan for it.' ❤️🩹❤️🩹 Something else happened that he couldn't explain, that was out of his control, that he couldn't bear to shoulder the burden any more than he had to. It all builds up with such a believable and taut tension that I was just pulled into it. It was not only his personal issues that waged a war in my heart, it was his own family that he faced so many challenges - testing his resolve and part as an older brother and a decent son - living up to these expectations and fighting within himself not to challenge them - no matter the fact that he was slowly changing from the rule-abiding, proper son that he had always been. 🥺
“I made a friend, you should be happy I have a friend. A guy friend.” His voice trembles. He hears the truth and the lies in his words battering against each other and cannot contain the explosion of it.
“Isn’t that what everyone expects, for me to be more like a guy? Have guy friends?”
And I rode alongside that wave of emotions. 😣 I was a bit uncomfortable with the way Todd and Scott's dynamic was handled - the depiction of underage sex was a little hard for me to digest, but, in their own cruel and unintentional way, they each taught Robin something about himself - something that impacted him more probably, because he was at that young crucial age of discovering himself. 🙁 He was able to experience so many firsts with them - to act upon his latent attraction and repressed feelings of sexual awakenings and desires, see the difference between him and them - from what they actually want and from what he knows about himself that helps him, in turn become stronger about himself - to assert his own convictions and find his own common ground. 'You are thinking about guys too much, he tells himself, with a mounting sense of terror. You are turning into a major queer.'
And yet, seeing how much he cared for Scott - to try and protect him from his abusive father - really touched my heart; how it teaches him what real love is and what isn't - what makes a healthy relationship and what doesn't. Todd may have been a conflict of interest for me, how he captured the allure of an attractive older boy giving a younger one his undivided attention for his own gain, but the way Robin dealt with him - was a crowning achievement for his growth - a stepping stone in the right direction. He was so young and impressionable, but the decisions he had to make - the conflicts that arose in front of him - he fought through all the sadness and heart-ache - on his own - trying to make sense of himself - in a time where there was no helping hand to guide him.
“The problem with taking risks, Robin realizes, is that you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
All the characters were flawed and relatable and surprisingly very real. From his parents to his siblings, Robin's bond was different and it was captured beautifully and achingly honest. The desires of a young boy aiming to be the best example of himself for his parents - live up to their expectations, while still trying to figure out who he is exactly. 'What good does it do to fantasize a scenario where you not only get what you want, but it comes risk-free? Life is never as perfect as you can make it in a daydream.' 😢 For when the tragedy befalls the MacKenzie family, it was even more painful to see how it slowly affected each of them in damaging ways, how they struggled to cope in the only ways that they knew - trying to be optimistic, but still tearing themselves up in the process.
His relationship with his mother, Dorothy, was one of the highlights for me - a drawbridge that connected him to the last remnants of what mattered to him - that close visceral bond he clung so hard to - 'His mother is organizing the memories into something with a point. She’s never spoken like this before, about him, to him, and he doesn’t like it.' Robin's train of thoughts on it throughout the book never wavers - never lets you forget that it did happen - it stays there like a dark cloud, a heavy weight on everyone's shoulder, especially Robin's. I teared up at the end, I'm not gonna lie. The ending was a lesson in waiting -it was heart-breaking and Robin's raw reaction was just --- 💔😟
It is a testament to the author that he was able to draw out all these significant relationships and still find a way to balance it all out so naturally - to have the events unravel simultaneously and still draw them together seamlessly and still get me so heavily invested in each of their scenarios. All the interactions felt alive - the characters were crafted so convincingly that I could believe that they were just an ordinary family - hit by an unexpected tragedy that tests their bond and their spirit and their resilience. It is in the way each of his family members shares a different connection with Robin that pushes his growth forward; it's what pulls him in even deeper in trying to understand what he has to prove - to do, to be himself.
“It was truer than he could have known—he feels so very far away from the person he was that day: the first day he ditched school, the first day he got stoned, the first day he kissed a boy.”
It was truly a heart-wrenching and very realistic exploration of family dynamics, sibling bonds, and first time chances. I really wasn't expecting it to hit me so hard with the feels, but it did - in all the right ways. I couldn't stop till I reached the end; that is most assuredly the mark of a captivating read. And to have it be the story of how we take chances and risks to be different from who we are, because that is what is expected of us left me with an even deeper perspective of myself. 👏🏻👏🏻 It is unflinching and unrelenting in having Robin endure every possible thing - to understand that being normal - isn't all that it is cracked up to be - that he finally can accept that he is as normal as normal can be. 'Robin says, summoning up his exit line. “I don’t have that much time.' The irony of it is not lost on me, as everything that he wanted to change for himself - everything that mattered to him - slowly gets pulled away from him - that nothing quite works out in favor of him. And yet, it still leaves us with this hopeful promise that he is off to find a better and brighter future for himself - heading in the right direction. 🙏🏻🙏🏻
“God, give me a new life. This one isn’t working for me.
He waits for a merciful bolt of lightning to strike his brain, to offer him some clue as to how it all works, this whole world of normal boys.”
I honestly haven't been this conflicted about my true thoughts for a book in quite awhile. I can't deny that Robin's story seeped into my soul so much that I do feel that it does deserve a higher rating. I really did like it. And yet, on the other hand, a part of me still felt a tad bit uncomfortable that I was reading the sexual exploits of a thirteen-year-old boy. But then, the rational part of me argues that 'Amina, you're not a thirteen-year-old boy. You don't know how their mind works or what they go through as they explore their own sexuality. Why should you be so offended about it, when it's his life - his journey?' 😔 For it is Robin's young age - that cusp of entering his teenage years during the late 70s in suburban New Jersey - that makes this such a poignant and heart-wrenching coming-of-age novel, as he faces the many diverse and conflicting familial and emotional and physical challenges of what it means to belong in The World of Normal Boys.
“Risk. It’s more than just a list of things to do—it’s a whole way of life, a ride off the map.”
There's something honestly quite moving about coming-of-age stories - the way the characters are on the threshold of innocence and one pivotal and crucial moment can catapult their life into another direction - that path of self-discovery and the important significant life-changing lessons they learn along the way. 😔 And here, it was no exception. It starts off innocently enough. Robin about to start freshman year with his off-set attraction to his much older neighbor, seventeen-year-old Todd Spicer, and the occasional teasing from his younger brother, Jackson and their equally aggressive and taunting cousin, Larry. It starts off tenderly as Robin gently writes out what he wants to achieve in this new school year - what are the things he wants to accomplish to be worthy of himself - to prove that he can be normal like other boys and fit into the crowd. It starts off --- and then, without warning, the writing really draws you into Robin's world - the writing that is the true champion of this debut novel. 💔💔
With such a visceral grip, the writing elevates what life is like for Robin - so visually expressive, it allows you to get inside his head as he struggles with the growing pains and pangs with questions of the heart and the conflicting emotions he faces. I felt like my heart was in its clutches the entire time - lost in the words that transported me into his life of 1978 - jiving to Saturday Night Fever, the raw pull towards the glitz and glamor of New York, the quiet suburban lifestyle of normalcy. 🤌🏻🤌🏻 But, when an unprecedented tragedy strikes the family, it immerses you even further into his thoughts that I found impossible to turn away. It was an intense emotional character-driven story that left me a little imbalanced after reading, leaving me to wonder why I had put off reading this for so long. The author's writing style was so achingly real in its portrayal of Robin that his pain became my pain - his struggles became my struggles. 😢😢
“Most people think that life offers you endless opportunities to get what you want, but Robin thinks there are endless possibilities for it all to be taken away.”
Robin was such a real character, the biggest strength lay in his voice. I empathize with his emotional frustrations, his raw anger at feeling different without meaning to be, his aching desire just to be accepted as he is, his longing just to be recognized for who he is, and still trying to find a place for himself how he is. 😟 The almost toxic-if not tumultuous friendships he starts up with Todd 'an object of fascination and also a source of great confusion', and his elusive yet wildly impulsive classmate, Scott Schatz also propels him even deeper in exploring the waters of his confusing sexuality. The way he indulges in their advances, trying to get a sense of what it is that he is - trying to explain his attractions and channel how much of their feelings for him are real or not.
His emotions were so very palpable; he pulled me into his life and his thoughts and his conflicting feelings. I may have been a spectator to his story, but it didn't mean my heart did not ache for him. All he wanted was to be normal - all he wanted was just to live a normal life, but every time he tried, something else came in his way. 'He is unexpectedly struck by the notion that he was a child here, that he is not a child, not in the same way. He wonders, how did this happen? I didn’t plan for it.' ❤️🩹❤️🩹 Something else happened that he couldn't explain, that was out of his control, that he couldn't bear to shoulder the burden any more than he had to. It all builds up with such a believable and taut tension that I was just pulled into it. It was not only his personal issues that waged a war in my heart, it was his own family that he faced so many challenges - testing his resolve and part as an older brother and a decent son - living up to these expectations and fighting within himself not to challenge them - no matter the fact that he was slowly changing from the rule-abiding, proper son that he had always been. 🥺
“I made a friend, you should be happy I have a friend. A guy friend.” His voice trembles. He hears the truth and the lies in his words battering against each other and cannot contain the explosion of it.
“Isn’t that what everyone expects, for me to be more like a guy? Have guy friends?”
And I rode alongside that wave of emotions. 😣 I was a bit uncomfortable with the way Todd and Scott's dynamic was handled - the depiction of underage sex was a little hard for me to digest, but, in their own cruel and unintentional way, they each taught Robin something about himself - something that impacted him more probably, because he was at that young crucial age of discovering himself. 🙁 He was able to experience so many firsts with them - to act upon his latent attraction and repressed feelings of sexual awakenings and desires, see the difference between him and them - from what they actually want and from what he knows about himself that helps him, in turn become stronger about himself - to assert his own convictions and find his own common ground. 'You are thinking about guys too much, he tells himself, with a mounting sense of terror. You are turning into a major queer.'
And yet, seeing how much he cared for Scott - to try and protect him from his abusive father - really touched my heart; how it teaches him what real love is and what isn't - what makes a healthy relationship and what doesn't. Todd may have been a conflict of interest for me, how he captured the allure of an attractive older boy giving a younger one his undivided attention for his own gain, but the way Robin dealt with him - was a crowning achievement for his growth - a stepping stone in the right direction. He was so young and impressionable, but the decisions he had to make - the conflicts that arose in front of him - he fought through all the sadness and heart-ache - on his own - trying to make sense of himself - in a time where there was no helping hand to guide him.
“The problem with taking risks, Robin realizes, is that you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
All the characters were flawed and relatable and surprisingly very real. From his parents to his siblings, Robin's bond was different and it was captured beautifully and achingly honest. The desires of a young boy aiming to be the best example of himself for his parents - live up to their expectations, while still trying to figure out who he is exactly. 'What good does it do to fantasize a scenario where you not only get what you want, but it comes risk-free? Life is never as perfect as you can make it in a daydream.' 😢 For when the tragedy befalls the MacKenzie family, it was even more painful to see how it slowly affected each of them in damaging ways, how they struggled to cope in the only ways that they knew - trying to be optimistic, but still tearing themselves up in the process.
His relationship with his mother, Dorothy, was one of the highlights for me - a drawbridge that connected him to the last remnants of what mattered to him - that close visceral bond he clung so hard to - 'His mother is organizing the memories into something with a point. She’s never spoken like this before, about him, to him, and he doesn’t like it.' Robin's train of thoughts on it throughout the book never wavers - never lets you forget that it did happen - it stays there like a dark cloud, a heavy weight on everyone's shoulder, especially Robin's. I teared up at the end, I'm not gonna lie. The ending was a lesson in waiting -it was heart-breaking and Robin's raw reaction was just --- 💔😟
It is a testament to the author that he was able to draw out all these significant relationships and still find a way to balance it all out so naturally - to have the events unravel simultaneously and still draw them together seamlessly and still get me so heavily invested in each of their scenarios. All the interactions felt alive - the characters were crafted so convincingly that I could believe that they were just an ordinary family - hit by an unexpected tragedy that tests their bond and their spirit and their resilience. It is in the way each of his family members shares a different connection with Robin that pushes his growth forward; it's what pulls him in even deeper in trying to understand what he has to prove - to do, to be himself.
“It was truer than he could have known—he feels so very far away from the person he was that day: the first day he ditched school, the first day he got stoned, the first day he kissed a boy.”
It was truly a heart-wrenching and very realistic exploration of family dynamics, sibling bonds, and first time chances. I really wasn't expecting it to hit me so hard with the feels, but it did - in all the right ways. I couldn't stop till I reached the end; that is most assuredly the mark of a captivating read. And to have it be the story of how we take chances and risks to be different from who we are, because that is what is expected of us left me with an even deeper perspective of myself. 👏🏻👏🏻 It is unflinching and unrelenting in having Robin endure every possible thing - to understand that being normal - isn't all that it is cracked up to be - that he finally can accept that he is as normal as normal can be. 'Robin says, summoning up his exit line. “I don’t have that much time.' The irony of it is not lost on me, as everything that he wanted to change for himself - everything that mattered to him - slowly gets pulled away from him - that nothing quite works out in favor of him. And yet, it still leaves us with this hopeful promise that he is off to find a better and brighter future for himself - heading in the right direction. 🙏🏻🙏🏻
May 20, 2018
No sé qué c*****s he hecho que me he salido de la página con la reseña sin guardar... GRRRRRR...
Estoy muy vaga para escribir reseñas y sólo me faltaba esto... xD
Resumiendo:
- Lo leí en papel <3
- Muy bien escrito, por momentos no sabía a dónde quería llegar el autor y hay partes en las que parece que no pasa nada, pero es un placer de lectura.
- Personajes muy bien construidos que se leen como adolescentes (con la excepción de Robin, en mi opinión) y no como treintañeros teletransportados al insti.
- Es más un Coming Of Age que otra cosa, y no esperéis amorcito tierno adolescente porque esto es más un sufrir con Robin que otra cosa, te pasas el libro temiendo que le pase algo turbio al muchacho...
- #TeamTodd ;P
Estoy muy vaga para escribir reseñas y sólo me faltaba esto... xD
Resumiendo:
- Lo leí en papel <3
- Muy bien escrito, por momentos no sabía a dónde quería llegar el autor y hay partes en las que parece que no pasa nada, pero es un placer de lectura.
- Personajes muy bien construidos que se leen como adolescentes (con la excepción de Robin, en mi opinión) y no como treintañeros teletransportados al insti.
- Es más un Coming Of Age que otra cosa, y no esperéis amorcito tierno adolescente porque esto es más un sufrir con Robin que otra cosa, te pasas el libro temiendo que le pase algo turbio al muchacho...
- #TeamTodd ;P
November 20, 2010
I can’t say that I enjoyed “The World of Normal Boys” but I loved it. Having grown up in the same era – alright, somewhat before – and not having come out until I was forty, the ambivalence and social constrictions felt by Robin and his sexual partners, Todd and Scott, were all very familiar. From my perspective as a psychiatrist, the exaggerated dysfunction of Robin’s family following the accident that injured Robin’s brother, Jackson, were all very real.
Robin’s magical dream of escape to the perfect fantasy of Greenwich Village was shattered by the realities that our world of same sex attractions also contains the possibilities of seedy sexual encounters in ugly places with undesirable characters.
The exploration of Robin’s sexuality rings true to my own experiences. Particularly during adolescence, sexual excitement can be triggered by almost anything, including rage. The description of Robin’s sexual experiences were far from the gratuitous, you-know-you-want-it of many gay novels. They were an essential, and sometimes exciting, part of the story.
By the end of the novel, Robin has learned that loving someone always involves risks and losing someone you love can leave you with hope that you can love again.
And in response to another reviewer's question: Yes, adolescent boys do jerk off that much!
Robin’s magical dream of escape to the perfect fantasy of Greenwich Village was shattered by the realities that our world of same sex attractions also contains the possibilities of seedy sexual encounters in ugly places with undesirable characters.
The exploration of Robin’s sexuality rings true to my own experiences. Particularly during adolescence, sexual excitement can be triggered by almost anything, including rage. The description of Robin’s sexual experiences were far from the gratuitous, you-know-you-want-it of many gay novels. They were an essential, and sometimes exciting, part of the story.
By the end of the novel, Robin has learned that loving someone always involves risks and losing someone you love can leave you with hope that you can love again.
And in response to another reviewer's question: Yes, adolescent boys do jerk off that much!
December 29, 2015
One of the first titles that inspired me to write YA/Coming of Age fiction. A small piece of perfection.
Suki Fleet
Suki Fleet
April 5, 2018
This coming out novel set in the late 1970s is for me a remembrance of things past. It is about Robin, a 13 y/o boy's gay sexual awakening. It is about risk, guilt, family matters, redemption, rebellion... The plot is interesting, the characters well drawn, the prose flowing. One will surely recognize their own feelings, actions and concerns at that age in this book's characters.
Coming out, coming of age books have become legion. This is one of the best I have read. A very telling contrast is between this novel and Andrew Tobias' The Best Little Boy in the World. Together, they compare the effects of taking or not taking a risk, of delaying rebellion.
Coming out, coming of age books have become legion. This is one of the best I have read. A very telling contrast is between this novel and Andrew Tobias' The Best Little Boy in the World. Together, they compare the effects of taking or not taking a risk, of delaying rebellion.
on-my-library
April 19, 2018LiaB, thank you so much for this gift! When I saw the Amazon email I thought “oh Gosh it seems I don’t need to sell my kidney anymore”
And then my next thought was how sweet and amazing you are. I lurv you ❤️❤️
Thank you, cariño! Now I need another book to pawn my kidney since my shelf is quiet and oh so empty.
And then my next thought was how sweet and amazing you are. I lurv you ❤️❤️
Thank you, cariño! Now I need another book to pawn my kidney since my shelf is quiet and oh so empty.
June 29, 2025
I read this a long time ago but aside from remembering that I had liked it, but without any sense of enthusiasm or any specific recall of the book I wasn't comfortable giving it as rating based on memory alone. I managed to borrow a copy from my library so that I could review it properly but the problem was that when I started to read the book again my heart sank. It was worthy, well intentioned but oh so predictable, banal and cliched. I didn't have the will power to read it all again. I am giving it two stars because on first reading I didn't dislike the book but there is nothing substantial there. I do not think only novels which deal with current events or problems are worth reading. I like older fiction dealing with queer themes which have ceased to be important but there is a distinction between what is worth returning too and issues whose time has past. This book definitely falls into the later category.
If I think about it any more I will reduce the star to one.
If I think about it any more I will reduce the star to one.
May 5, 2018
This was a buddy read with Rosalinda. Thank you so much for not only recommending this book, but also holding my hand throughout the journey.
The World of Normal Boys takes place in 1978 when our protagonist, Robin, is 13 years old. I turned 12 that same year. What an amazing blast from the past! K.M. Soehnlein does a fantastic job bringing to life the sights, sounds, scents, fads and feel of the life of an adolescent in the US during that time. I was happily and embarrassingly transported back to the angst and awkwardness of my teens for the duration of the ride.
The characters are painted with such a rich and nuanced brush. They are flawed and frustrating and infuriating and complex and so very real. Even as they infuriated or frustrated me, I understood and empathized with them. Mostly. There were characters that I simply hated. But it was hate with and for good reason. Those characters weren’t there simply to imbue conflict. They were integral to understanding how and why the flawed characters that I loved were the way they were. They’re the kind of people we know and see and interact with in our day to day lives. They’re the kind of people who, if they’re significant players in our lives, shape us and hopefully influence us to grow into stronger, smarter, better versions of ourselves. This is the case with the characters in TWONB. Each has an important and integral part in shaping the others. For me, that is the essence of this book, because, like Rosalinda says in her review, “...you literally suffer with every new chapter, you literally get the butterflies and you desperately don’t want this incredible journey to end but when it does you are slapped with reality. It’s just there, in your face. And you just love it and think that’s the best way to end a book. It was actually not an ending, it was a beginning. A powerful one.” I loved that about TWONB, it was a lovely journey in and of itself, but it’s ending is really a new beginning, not only for Robin and his sister Ruby, but their mother as well.
It’s been nearly a month since I finished The World of Normal Boys. I don’t usually write reviews more than a week or two after having finished a book, but this was such an unexpected, difficult and lovely read that I wanted to at least say this much.
The World of Normal Boys takes place in 1978 when our protagonist, Robin, is 13 years old. I turned 12 that same year. What an amazing blast from the past! K.M. Soehnlein does a fantastic job bringing to life the sights, sounds, scents, fads and feel of the life of an adolescent in the US during that time. I was happily and embarrassingly transported back to the angst and awkwardness of my teens for the duration of the ride.
The characters are painted with such a rich and nuanced brush. They are flawed and frustrating and infuriating and complex and so very real. Even as they infuriated or frustrated me, I understood and empathized with them. Mostly. There were characters that I simply hated. But it was hate with and for good reason. Those characters weren’t there simply to imbue conflict. They were integral to understanding how and why the flawed characters that I loved were the way they were. They’re the kind of people we know and see and interact with in our day to day lives. They’re the kind of people who, if they’re significant players in our lives, shape us and hopefully influence us to grow into stronger, smarter, better versions of ourselves. This is the case with the characters in TWONB. Each has an important and integral part in shaping the others. For me, that is the essence of this book, because, like Rosalinda says in her review, “...you literally suffer with every new chapter, you literally get the butterflies and you desperately don’t want this incredible journey to end but when it does you are slapped with reality. It’s just there, in your face. And you just love it and think that’s the best way to end a book. It was actually not an ending, it was a beginning. A powerful one.” I loved that about TWONB, it was a lovely journey in and of itself, but it’s ending is really a new beginning, not only for Robin and his sister Ruby, but their mother as well.
It’s been nearly a month since I finished The World of Normal Boys. I don’t usually write reviews more than a week or two after having finished a book, but this was such an unexpected, difficult and lovely read that I wanted to at least say this much.
October 1, 2009
I first read “The World of Normal Boys” last year, and I liked it a lot. Upon re-reading it, I agree that it’s kind of depressing, unsettling, but also realistic. Remember that this is set in the 1970s. How much did your average gay 13yo then know about Stonewall, for instance?
I can easily imagine a young 1970s boy who knows he attracted to boys, is consumed with guilt on multiple fronts, has virtually no positive role models, jerks off a lot, and gets slapped around by everybody. But does this make for a good novel? Well, I suppose that not every coming-of-age story has to be life-affirming and love-affirming. What Robin thinks, what he does, are wholly believable from a 13yo’s point of view. At the same time, I don’t think I’d want to be Robin, no matter what decade it is -- even if I *did* get to say “screw you” and ride off into the sunset at the end.
Robin has, or ends up having, an antagonistic relationship with almost everyone in his life. The only “nice people” are his guidance counselor, Mr. Cortez, and Vincent, the Greenwich Village trick who gives Robin bus fare for sex. But take the other characters: Robin’s father is the personification of clueless fatherhood, Robin’s mentoring mother has given over to drink, brother Jackson (until his demise) is a bullying brat, sister Ruby and grandmother Nana are ridiculously religious, Grandpa Leo was a drunk, uncle Stan is a dork, cousin Larry is a total prick, and both buds Todd Spicer and Scott Schatz turn out to be losers who, for unknown reasons, like to get their rocks off (indiscriminately) with other guys. Lest I forget Mr. Schatz, the drunken child abuser. So, Robin is awash in negativity. Even Mr. Cortez is clueless about why 13yo Robin has to ditch school.
I think the main shtick in this novel is not homosexuality or parents or friends, or 13yos. It’s Jackson’s injury. It’s the granddaddy metaphor for dashed hopes. Robin’s story is filled with dashed hopes. And at the end, when Robin takes the bull by the horns, says sayonara, and gets on that Black & Tan bus to NYC, the story is still about hope.
I can easily imagine a young 1970s boy who knows he attracted to boys, is consumed with guilt on multiple fronts, has virtually no positive role models, jerks off a lot, and gets slapped around by everybody. But does this make for a good novel? Well, I suppose that not every coming-of-age story has to be life-affirming and love-affirming. What Robin thinks, what he does, are wholly believable from a 13yo’s point of view. At the same time, I don’t think I’d want to be Robin, no matter what decade it is -- even if I *did* get to say “screw you” and ride off into the sunset at the end.
Robin has, or ends up having, an antagonistic relationship with almost everyone in his life. The only “nice people” are his guidance counselor, Mr. Cortez, and Vincent, the Greenwich Village trick who gives Robin bus fare for sex. But take the other characters: Robin’s father is the personification of clueless fatherhood, Robin’s mentoring mother has given over to drink, brother Jackson (until his demise) is a bullying brat, sister Ruby and grandmother Nana are ridiculously religious, Grandpa Leo was a drunk, uncle Stan is a dork, cousin Larry is a total prick, and both buds Todd Spicer and Scott Schatz turn out to be losers who, for unknown reasons, like to get their rocks off (indiscriminately) with other guys. Lest I forget Mr. Schatz, the drunken child abuser. So, Robin is awash in negativity. Even Mr. Cortez is clueless about why 13yo Robin has to ditch school.
I think the main shtick in this novel is not homosexuality or parents or friends, or 13yos. It’s Jackson’s injury. It’s the granddaddy metaphor for dashed hopes. Robin’s story is filled with dashed hopes. And at the end, when Robin takes the bull by the horns, says sayonara, and gets on that Black & Tan bus to NYC, the story is still about hope.
September 19, 2007
Sweet and sad coming of age story of Robin Mackenzie. He is a gay high school freshman in 1979, living in suburban New Jersey, dealing with first love, first experiences with sex and with drugs, family falling apart. Very moving.
May 2, 2011
I almost couldn't set this down -- it's like a wonderful lost 1970s coming of age miniseries (for HBO)
August 26, 2019
A book that progressively draws you in until you can barely stop yourself from turning the pages, "The World of Normal Boys" is understandably a massive figure in the midst of the gay canon of literature.
Soehnlein's 2000 breakthrough novel tells the story of Robin, a new-to-high school boy who is freshly discovering his sexual desires for boys all in the midst of an enormous family tragedy. Dealing with frustrating parents, bullies, and sexual experimentation, "The World of Normal Boys" has all of the ingredients for a strong, draw-you-in coming of age story.
Admittedly, though, it is Soehnlein's choice of third person narration - rather than the standard first person narration one would normally encounter in a coming of age tale - that puts too much distance between the readers and his characters. As a result, in some places the story feels rushed and the characters' development seem abrupt and out of nowhere.
Nonetheless, this quintessential tale is important for any gay reader who wants to get a general idea of how, even gay, writers portrayed gay characters, "as special boys," as momma's boys, and generally bad at sports. Though this book plays into all the stereotypical tropes of the genre at the time, it nonetheless stands the test of time as an important contribution to gay libraries.
Soehnlein's 2000 breakthrough novel tells the story of Robin, a new-to-high school boy who is freshly discovering his sexual desires for boys all in the midst of an enormous family tragedy. Dealing with frustrating parents, bullies, and sexual experimentation, "The World of Normal Boys" has all of the ingredients for a strong, draw-you-in coming of age story.
Admittedly, though, it is Soehnlein's choice of third person narration - rather than the standard first person narration one would normally encounter in a coming of age tale - that puts too much distance between the readers and his characters. As a result, in some places the story feels rushed and the characters' development seem abrupt and out of nowhere.
Nonetheless, this quintessential tale is important for any gay reader who wants to get a general idea of how, even gay, writers portrayed gay characters, "as special boys," as momma's boys, and generally bad at sports. Though this book plays into all the stereotypical tropes of the genre at the time, it nonetheless stands the test of time as an important contribution to gay libraries.
June 30, 2007
I found this book at a friends of the library sale. I thought it looked interesting, but I was not prepared for the intensity level or even just the premise of the story at all. It's a very well-written, emotional tale that, I would think, accurately portrays how tangled life as an adolescent boy would be, particularly an adolescent boy who is examining his own sexuality, let alone the other issues he is facing. Very provocative.
August 16, 2010
I loved this book. It genuinely captures the era and sets a tone. It also captures the intense sexual confusion that happens to a teen going through perhaps the most turbulent time of his life. I felt tremendous sympathy for the main character. This is one of the best coming of age stories I've read.
December 30, 2010
I read this when it was "new" and then a year or so ago, I read it again. It's brilliant and funny and sad and true, the product of a gifted writer.
July 15, 2017
Questo libro è un ottimo esempio di molte cose: grandissima caratterizzazione e introspezione, ottima resa della vita adolescenziale e opinabilità del linguaggio. A volte è colpa di autori, altre di traduttori e/o editori. Ora mi spiego.
STORIA: siamo alla fine degli anni '70, nel New Jersey, immediata vicinanza a New York. Robin è un adolescente di tredici anni che vive coi genitori, Clark e Dorothy, la sorella Ruby di qualche anno più piccola e Jackson, l'ultimogenito. Tutto comincia con il nuovo anno accademico che vede Robin alle prese con il suo ingresso al liceo, il momento a partire dal quale la sua vita comincia a cambiare inesorabilmente. Robin deve infatti confrontarsi con un nuovo mondo, con leggi che determinano la popolarità e l'impopolarità; le vecchie amicizie che si indeboliscono e le nuove che sembrano nascere; gli attriti coi compagni e la delusione delle proprie aspettative; il suo passaggio nel mondo della pubertà, con la scoperta del sesso, del proprio corpo che matura, del palesarsi inesorabile della sua omosessualità; e, evento che darà la scossa alla sua vita, una tragedia famigliare destinata a distruggere il precario (e apparente) equilibrio esistito fino a quel momento.
PERSONAGGI: Robin è il protagonista pressoché assoluto, e solo per commentare lui ci vorrebbe parecchio. L'intero romanzo è narrato dal suo punto di vista al presente e in terza persona, immergendo il lettore completamente nei suoi pensieri, nelle fantasie, nelle paure, perfino nei sogni. Si vive quasi tutto il tempo nella testa di Robin, e l'autore è stato magistrale nella sua resa, perché spesso per un lettore diventa difficile farsi un'idea "autonoma" su personaggi ed eventi quando la narrazione avviene dal POV assoluto di uno di loro. Di solito questa tecnica finisce con l'influenzare largamente le opinioni dei lettori, in quanto restituisce giudizi e valutazioni "preconfezionate" dal personaggio principale; ma qui non accade. La narrazione, pur avvenendo dal POV di Robin, non ne viene "viziata". Si riesce a mantenere uno sguardo abbastanza lucido su eventi e personaggi e, allo stesso tempo, capire perfettamente quello di Robin, i suoi sentimenti, le reazioni, cosa lo spinge a comportarsi in un certo modo. C'è l'insolita sensazione di avere una visione oggettiva da una parte, che spesso mette nella posizione di contestare le azioni di Robin - ribelli, puerili, (giustamente) adolescenziali; e dall'altra la sua visione, il suo sentire, che in qualche modo riesce a far comprendere e perfino giustificare quel suo modo di agire. Devo dire che l'autore è stato bravissimo in questo doppio binario, davvero notevole. Robin è davvero un personaggio particolare, che mi è piaciuto tantissimo: un ragazzo più intelligente e maturo rispetto alla sua età, che non si trova bene con i coetanei, dotato di una vena artistica e un'indole docile, discreta, che lo fa vivere un po' ai margini, anche in famiglia. Non è solo la resa del suo carattere a essere ottima, ma anche la transizione tipica di quell'età: il suo corpo che cambia, matura, entra nella pubertà. La rappresentazione che viene fatta di questo difficile passaggio è sorprendentemente realistica e vivida: il pensiero ricorrente del sesso, i primi sogni erotici, gli sfioramenti continui e le fantasie alle quali si lascia andare su Todd, il vicino, e poi Scott, un nuovo amico; le "paranoie" tipiche di quell'età, come il timore (chi non lo ha mai provato?) che qualcuno attorno gli leggesse in faccia le cose che faceva o desiderava; il terrore di essere scoperto; le fantasie più radicali ed esagerate sulle eventuali conseguenze. Tutto strettamente tipico di quel periodo, come se il mondo giri attorno a lui e ogni cosa che gli accade possa essere percepita dagli altri e innescare effetti catastrofici. Davvero una resa incredibile. E i voli pindarici? Robin salta da un pensiero all'altro, fa associazioni tutte sue, mentre parla con qualcuno ecco che nella sua mente si affacciano immagini o fantasie improvvise su come possa finire quell'interazione. Davvero emozionante, è come rivivere l'adolescenza e i turbamenti tipici di quel periodo, irripetibili in qualunque altro momento di vita. Anche la scoperta del sesso, che avanza tumultuosamente e lo turba ancora di più perché non direzionata verso le ragazze ma i ragazzi; un sesso il cui desiderio non è ancora quello adulto e consapevole, che spesso precede l'attività sessuale. Robin non desidera prima e poi agisce, ma come ogni adolescente desidera nel momento in cui agisce, perché è nello scoprire quelle sensazioni forti e travolgenti che quella brama gli esplode in corpo. Una brama mai conosciuta prima, che più scopre, più cerca. E tuttavia, nella sua spasmodica e costante ricerca di piacere, nella scoperta del suo corpo e delle esperienze con altri ragazzi, mantiene un velo di ingenuità e spontaneità, una dolcezza insolita. Ma l'aspetto che più ho amato di lui, a parte la sua intelligenza spiccata e la maturità che lo condannano inevitabilmente a essere un disadattato fra i suoi pari (considera "sfigati" quelli che parlano volgarmente delle ragazze, preferisce l'arte allo sport e odia chi se la prende con i più deboli), è il dualismo feroce che lo anima: un lato tenero, sensibilissimo, docile, e l'altro crudele, arrabbiato, furioso fino a diventare violento, come meglio mostrato alla fine del libro. Questa sua dualità, assolutamente umana e realistica, è resa perfettamente nel modo in cui reagisce e nelle fantasie che fa. Il suo lato oscuro è forte quanto quello docile, è inarrestabile, si nutre dei torti subiti dagli altri e dalla vita, lo rende un Robin incapace di provare compassione per le persone che gli hanno fatto del male. Trovo che sia davvero umano e credibile in questa sua doppia natura che compone ognuno di noi.
Gli altri personaggi non sono da meno. Dorothy, la madre di Robin, mi è piaciuta molto. Una donna che aveva sogni, ambizioni, romantica e dal palato "fine"; delusa dalla vita e da se stessa. Il rapporto che ha con il figlio maggiore è qualcosa di davvero speciale, anche questo reso in modo magistrale. Credo sia uno degli elementi più intensi e belli dell'intero romanzo, qualcosa che viene narrato e mostrato fra gli alti e bassi della quotidianità e poi della tragedia, che rischia di infrangersi più volte e che alla fine sembra ritrovare un suo equilibrio. Il loro rapporto è particolare, quasi simbiotico e tuttavia difficile, sofferto. Solo per questo il libro meriterebbe di esser letto. E poi ci sono il padre, Clark, uomo inizialmente equilibrato e pacato, che di fronte alle difficoltà si sgretola e mostra tutta la reale fragilità di cui è fatto; Ruby, la sorellina che verso la fine fa stringere il cuore; Jackson e Larry (loro cugino), i cui caratteri fastidiosi vengono mirabilmente resi in poche pennellate; il vicino Todd e il nuovo amico Scott, esempi massimi di chi combatte per reprimere la propria natura o almeno nasconderla al mondo perché "sbagliata"; e tutti quelli marginali (che poi marginali non sono, perché hanno ruoli importanti seppure compaiano di meno) come la nonna Rena, il padre di Scott, il prof. Cortez, Victoria (ex migliore amica di Robin e sorella minore di Todd), gli zii Stan e Corinne (genitori di Larry). Tutti ben resi, senza il bisogno di indugiarci pagine e pagine, a volte attraverso poche azioni, parole o caratteristiche. Gran bel lavoro di caratterizzazione per tutti.
STILE E FORMA: ebbene, il neo doveva esserci. Lo stile dell'autore è davvero bello. La narrazione gode di notevole scorrevolezza e fluidità; le descrizioni sono sempre ben bilanciate ed efficaci, non esagerano mai e non annoiano. Anche quelle dei luoghi, per le quali facilmente inizio a provare avversione, sono funzionali e vivide. I dialoghi li definirei nevralgici, fanno capire ed emergere molto delle dinamiche famigliari e relazionali di Robin. In qualche tratto, specialmente all'inizio, l'autore usa quasi uno stile da copione teatrale per riuscire a dar voce a più personaggi nello stesso momento (Nome:"..."), ma capita solo in un paio di occasioni. Narrazione, descrizione, dialoghi sono ben distribuiti e si amalgamano armoniosamente, senza mai far stancare la lettura perché uno prepondera sull'altro. E l'autore ama molto usare le immagini e le similitudini, cui ricorre frequentemente per paragonarvi persone o situazioni. E le sceglie perfettamente, non sono mai artificiose o criptiche fino all'incomprensibile come ho letto in Cunningham (vedasi recensione sul suo libro "Una casa alla fine del mondo). Ma. MA... Ebbene sì. Il linguaggio.
Tralasciando l'inconsueto tipo di punteggiatura che la casa editrice applica, il problema per quanto mi riguarda risiede nel registro. Che si tratti di autori o traduttori, il mio discorso è generale: a volte sono le versioni italiane a essere rese più volgarmente di quanto necessario, altre volte è anche la versione originale a presentare termini piuttosto bassi. Quindi il discorso che sto per fare vale per gli autori che scelgono a monte di scrivere in un certo modo e per i traduttori/editori che, anche quando hanno un margine flessibile di scelta, optano per i termini volgari.
Il testo in sé è lineare, pulito e direi anche chiaro. Il guaio arriva quando si accennano le scene di sesso. Il libro da quel punto di vista è una voliera. Volano u**elli da tutte le parti, per non parlare di tutta una serie di termini altrettanto (se non più) beceri per descrivere parti del corpo e secrezioni. Ebbene, non ci sto, è squallido. Perché io non smetterò mai di ribattere alla schiera di persone che affermano quanto sia "giusto" usare quel registro per la narrazione sessuale da un POV maschile che invece NON lo è affatto, per tutta una serie di ragioni che ribatterò vita natural durante:
1) falso che sia linguaggio tipicamente maschile. Ma davvero esistono ancora questi discorsi sessisti? Proprio le persone che leggono questo tipo di letteratura, sostenitrici del mondo LGBT, cosa fanno? Si dimostrano legate ancora a concetti "di genere"? Quindi mentalità binaria, sul serio? Bella contraddizione. Senza contare l'immensità lì fuori di uomini che NON sono affatto volgari nell'esprimersi, e di donne che invece lo sono enormemente. Quindi basta con questa non-argomentazione che cerca di legare scurrilità a virilità, per favore.
2) il fatto che siamo nel XXI secolo autorizza a diventare volgari e sboccati? In pratica tradurre in maniera elegante, o quantomeno neutrale, sarebbe da Romanticismo dell' '800 e invece oggi è lecito involgarire qualsiasi termine possibile perché sia "realistico"? Beh, anche qui gran limite. Perché io non so chi sostiene queste idee dove sia cresciuto e in quali ambienti viva, ma a casa mia la volgarità non esiste. La prima parola volgare mi è sfuggita a vent'anni e mio padre non voleva nemmeno che parlassimo dialetto (infatti non lo so parlare). E molte realtà sono così, non per questo siamo persone ottocentesche. Si tratta semplicemente di educazione, ambiente, e se in alcuni posti può essere realistico, in molti altri invece no. Mi disturba che si voglia assolutizzare una realtà estendendo al resto del mondo le sue caratteristiche; è un modo di vedere le cose fallace e ingenuo.
3) molti contemporanei narrano scene sessuali. Ora mi spiegate perché una Anne Rice, uno Stephen King, un Haruki Murakami, quando parlano di scene di sesso non vengono mai tradotti con un linguaggio squallido? Eppure spesso raccontano di personaggi maschili. Ebbene sì, uomini. Eppure la traduzione mantiene un alto livello, come dovrebbe essere sempre. Quindi perché alcuni sì e altri no? E vogliamo parlare di quanti autori, attualmente (anche uomini) narrino scene omoerotiche senza mai scadere nel volgare?
4) ma poi, fatemi capire: usare termini neutrali, non voglio dire eleganti perché (sebbene io adori l'eleganza) forse a volte sarebbero troppo "alti" rispetto allo stile generale, toglierebbe qualcosa alla storia, al libro? Assolutamente no. Non penso. La bellezza narrativa non viene intaccata se si usano termini neutri; non "medici", sono NEUTRI. È diverso. Medico è "organo riproduttivo"; medico è "gonadi"; medico è "liquido seminale". Medico NON è "pene", "testicoli", "sperma". Ma forse parlo perché un medico in casa l'ho avuto, medicina l'ho studiata (e udite udite, sessuologia, quindi parlo con cognizione di causa) e distinguo perfettamente il linguaggio medico dal semplice e normalissimo italiano. Anche perché se un autore/traduttore volesse non usare termini beceri in pratica NON PUò farlo perché automaticamente cadrebbe in questo linguaggio definito "medico", non esistono altre opzioni. O volgare o medico, nessuna via di mezzo. Mah, molto, molto opinabile.
5) fingiamo anche di sopportare il becerismo. Ok, il protagonista è un ragazzino (non dico maschio perché questa idiozia sessista non la ammetto nemmeno per assurdo) che probabilmente non si esprimerebbe neutralmente e nemmeno come mi esprimevo io alla sua età perché il suo contesto è diverso dal mio, e va bene (ma nemmeno perché i contesti mi sembrano molto simili come famiglia e modelli educativi). Ma se vogliamo esser FEDELI all'ambientazione e al personaggio, un ragazzo timido, studioso, schivo, che cresce in una famiglia borghese e che non frequenta alcun gruppo o compagnia sboccata, mi dite che c'è di realistico nel mettergli in bocca simili termini? A me pare poco. Potrei capire un bulletto di strada, ma un ragazzo chiuso e di buona famiglia, che passa il tempo con la madre, una donna fine con la passione per l'arte e il buon gusto, ce lo vedo a stento. L'intero libro sfoggia un registro pulito, un bel linguaggio che va a farsi benedire solo nelle scene sessuali, per cui sarebbe sopportabile lasciare certe volgarità solo nel discorso diretto di precisi personaggi, ma NON nella voce narrante, anche se qui è pregna del POV di Robin. NO. Perché, semplicemente, Robin non corrisponde a quel genere di linguaggio, non è coerente attribuirglielo. Esempio: le ultime tre righe del capitolo 7, in cui Robin si sta masturbando. Il periodo inizia con la parola peggiore che si possa usare per indicare lo sperma (s****a), odiata perfino dai lettori più tolleranti, e termina con "impulso estatico". Ora ditemi voi che coerenza linguistica c'è. Si comincia con la volgarità massima e si termina con un'espressione elegante. Questo è solo un esempio di come il discorso "il personaggio parlerebbe così" regge poco. Ora, visto che penso "impulso estatico" in lingua originale non fosse molto lontano da questa espressione, forse il traduttore avrebbe dovuto optare per una versione del primo termine più decente, visto che l'inglese ne ha un paio e l'italiano molti di più. Se c'è scelta perché guastare un libro?
6) qualcuno asserisce che i termini sboccati servano a eccitare. Qui dico solo due cose: 1) questo non è un libro pornografico, non dico neanche erotico perché anche se l'opinione comune è che l'erotico "debba eccitare" (non so chi l'abbia deciso, ma non è affatto questo. Il pornografico deve eccitare, l'erotico parla attraverso il sesso, ma lasciamo stare), resta comunque di fatto che questo libro non lo è. E 2) ammesso che l'erotico (pornografico) debba eccitare, la volgarità non eccita tutti. Anzi.
Scusate la digressione, non voglio convincere nessuno della mia posizione sull'uso del registro, ma solo argomentarla, farla capire. Odio vedere bei libri rovinati da traduzioni pessime, e purtroppo la cosa è dilagante. In questo caso ci sono passata sopra perché l'opera è davvero scritta bene, tocca argomenti molto intensi, è scorrevole e non è una storia d'amore. Ma garantisco che quando trovo questo genere di linguaggio in un romanzo che si suppone d'amore, lo cestino senza troppi complimenti, perché d'amore non mi sa affatto. E ne ho presi, in passato, di ebook del genere. Tutti eliminati. Dovrò aspettare di trovare le versioni in lingua, ma se non altro so quali CE seguire e quali no. La cosa più grave è che poi si abitua il pubblico al becerismo, alla volgarità. Chi lavora nel mondo editoriale ha enormi responsabilità: fa passare dei messaggi, plasma la mentalità, educa. Se autori/traduttori abituano a un certo linguaggio facendolo passare per normale, resta da stupirsi poco se le nuove generazioni siano sboccate. Non fraintendetemi: penso di avere vedute molto ampie. Non ho problemi con nessun genere di tematica, non esiste niente che censurerei - non mi scandalizzano incesto, orge, pratiche BDSM - e mi piacciono anche le scene ben dettagliate, nel sesso. Amo i dettagli in generale e le scene erotiche non sono escluse, devo vedere tutto, mi piace; ma la forma può drasticamente cambiare ogni cosa. Non posso assolutamente dare lo stesso peso a parole come "s****a" e "bianco piacere" (traduz. per Anne Rice) per indicare lo sperma. Siamo proprio su pianeti distanti anni luce. E la cosa peggiore è che i lettori ci si abituano e finiscono poi, paradossalmente, col criticare o non apprezzare autori e traduzioni di livello.
Ricordo che un signore chiamato Umberto Eco, fra le ironiche regole per scrivere bene, dichiara "Solo gli stronzi usano parole volgari" (Regola n.14). E almeno lui un po' di credito direi che lo merita.
Il libro meritava cinque stelle piene e non posso dargliele, causa quanto suddetto. Forse la versione originale le merita tutte, ma l'italiana no. Peccato.
Chiaramente questa è la mia posizione, per cui chi non fosse d'accordo sul discorso "registro" troverà solo pregi in questo libro, perché è davvero intenso e ben scritto. Non è una storia d'amore; è una storia di scoperta. Di se stessi e del mondo, della vita, è la storia dell'abbandono delle spoglie infantili per cominciare il viaggio verso la maturità e la serie di rivelazioni che questa comporta.
Robin non è un ragazzo "normale". I ragazzi "normali" si interessano di feste, ragazze, sport, di fare gruppo e angustiare quelli che non sono come loro. Robin non può essere normale perché a lui tutte queste cose non piacciono: preferisce i ragazzi, i musei, l'arte, narrare storie; schiva ogni forma di attività sportiva e non sopporta pettegolezzi, soprannomi e prese in giro. È un ragazzo sensibile che sente il bisogno di parlare dopo un'esperienza sessuale, che vuole capire, sentirsi speciale per qualcuno; che ha un'indole dolce, romantica come sua madre, ma ogni giorno si scontra con una realtà che non è come lui e che lo ferisce, lo delude profondamente. Si chiama crescere. E assiste alla capacità umana di fare del male, dalle offese che riceve dai bulli alla freddezza dei suoi primi ragazzi, con cui si sente solo un corpo; dalla crudezza reale di New York e di chi vi abita - che rappresentano poi la vita reale e adulta al di fuori del proprio bozzolo perfetto - alla sua stessa natura duale che lo spinge a pensare e fare cose crudeli a coloro che lo feriscono. Il male è nell'uomo, è nella vita; è questo che Robin apprende nel romanzo. E per questo lui non può essere normale, ma è diverso dagli altri perché "quasi tutti prendono la vita come qualcosa di fondamentalmente bello, anche se ogni tanto capitano cose brutte. Robin invece ha l'impressione di aver colto la verità, una verità più ampia di qualsiasi cosa la madre gli abbia mai insegnato, ovvero che la vita è quasi sempre brutta, e questo perché le persone sono capaci di atti orribili. La gente è convinta che la vita offra una serie infinita di occasioni per ottenere ciò che si vuole, ma per Robin esistono solo occasioni infinite perché tutto ti venga sottratto". E questo entra ufficialmente nei miei passi preferiti di sempre. Parole che condivido pienamente.
Stra-consigliato a tutti perché tratta mirabilmente temi che riguardano ognuno di noi: la crescita, la scoperta, la ribellione agli stereotipi, il bisogno di conferme e lo sbattere contro una realtà di gran lunga diversa da quella che ci si aspetta. Disillusione e delusione.
Non consigliato solo a chi cerca storie d'amore, perché non è un romance.
STORIA: siamo alla fine degli anni '70, nel New Jersey, immediata vicinanza a New York. Robin è un adolescente di tredici anni che vive coi genitori, Clark e Dorothy, la sorella Ruby di qualche anno più piccola e Jackson, l'ultimogenito. Tutto comincia con il nuovo anno accademico che vede Robin alle prese con il suo ingresso al liceo, il momento a partire dal quale la sua vita comincia a cambiare inesorabilmente. Robin deve infatti confrontarsi con un nuovo mondo, con leggi che determinano la popolarità e l'impopolarità; le vecchie amicizie che si indeboliscono e le nuove che sembrano nascere; gli attriti coi compagni e la delusione delle proprie aspettative; il suo passaggio nel mondo della pubertà, con la scoperta del sesso, del proprio corpo che matura, del palesarsi inesorabile della sua omosessualità; e, evento che darà la scossa alla sua vita, una tragedia famigliare destinata a distruggere il precario (e apparente) equilibrio esistito fino a quel momento.
PERSONAGGI: Robin è il protagonista pressoché assoluto, e solo per commentare lui ci vorrebbe parecchio. L'intero romanzo è narrato dal suo punto di vista al presente e in terza persona, immergendo il lettore completamente nei suoi pensieri, nelle fantasie, nelle paure, perfino nei sogni. Si vive quasi tutto il tempo nella testa di Robin, e l'autore è stato magistrale nella sua resa, perché spesso per un lettore diventa difficile farsi un'idea "autonoma" su personaggi ed eventi quando la narrazione avviene dal POV assoluto di uno di loro. Di solito questa tecnica finisce con l'influenzare largamente le opinioni dei lettori, in quanto restituisce giudizi e valutazioni "preconfezionate" dal personaggio principale; ma qui non accade. La narrazione, pur avvenendo dal POV di Robin, non ne viene "viziata". Si riesce a mantenere uno sguardo abbastanza lucido su eventi e personaggi e, allo stesso tempo, capire perfettamente quello di Robin, i suoi sentimenti, le reazioni, cosa lo spinge a comportarsi in un certo modo. C'è l'insolita sensazione di avere una visione oggettiva da una parte, che spesso mette nella posizione di contestare le azioni di Robin - ribelli, puerili, (giustamente) adolescenziali; e dall'altra la sua visione, il suo sentire, che in qualche modo riesce a far comprendere e perfino giustificare quel suo modo di agire. Devo dire che l'autore è stato bravissimo in questo doppio binario, davvero notevole. Robin è davvero un personaggio particolare, che mi è piaciuto tantissimo: un ragazzo più intelligente e maturo rispetto alla sua età, che non si trova bene con i coetanei, dotato di una vena artistica e un'indole docile, discreta, che lo fa vivere un po' ai margini, anche in famiglia. Non è solo la resa del suo carattere a essere ottima, ma anche la transizione tipica di quell'età: il suo corpo che cambia, matura, entra nella pubertà. La rappresentazione che viene fatta di questo difficile passaggio è sorprendentemente realistica e vivida: il pensiero ricorrente del sesso, i primi sogni erotici, gli sfioramenti continui e le fantasie alle quali si lascia andare su Todd, il vicino, e poi Scott, un nuovo amico; le "paranoie" tipiche di quell'età, come il timore (chi non lo ha mai provato?) che qualcuno attorno gli leggesse in faccia le cose che faceva o desiderava; il terrore di essere scoperto; le fantasie più radicali ed esagerate sulle eventuali conseguenze. Tutto strettamente tipico di quel periodo, come se il mondo giri attorno a lui e ogni cosa che gli accade possa essere percepita dagli altri e innescare effetti catastrofici. Davvero una resa incredibile. E i voli pindarici? Robin salta da un pensiero all'altro, fa associazioni tutte sue, mentre parla con qualcuno ecco che nella sua mente si affacciano immagini o fantasie improvvise su come possa finire quell'interazione. Davvero emozionante, è come rivivere l'adolescenza e i turbamenti tipici di quel periodo, irripetibili in qualunque altro momento di vita. Anche la scoperta del sesso, che avanza tumultuosamente e lo turba ancora di più perché non direzionata verso le ragazze ma i ragazzi; un sesso il cui desiderio non è ancora quello adulto e consapevole, che spesso precede l'attività sessuale. Robin non desidera prima e poi agisce, ma come ogni adolescente desidera nel momento in cui agisce, perché è nello scoprire quelle sensazioni forti e travolgenti che quella brama gli esplode in corpo. Una brama mai conosciuta prima, che più scopre, più cerca. E tuttavia, nella sua spasmodica e costante ricerca di piacere, nella scoperta del suo corpo e delle esperienze con altri ragazzi, mantiene un velo di ingenuità e spontaneità, una dolcezza insolita. Ma l'aspetto che più ho amato di lui, a parte la sua intelligenza spiccata e la maturità che lo condannano inevitabilmente a essere un disadattato fra i suoi pari (considera "sfigati" quelli che parlano volgarmente delle ragazze, preferisce l'arte allo sport e odia chi se la prende con i più deboli), è il dualismo feroce che lo anima: un lato tenero, sensibilissimo, docile, e l'altro crudele, arrabbiato, furioso fino a diventare violento, come meglio mostrato alla fine del libro. Questa sua dualità, assolutamente umana e realistica, è resa perfettamente nel modo in cui reagisce e nelle fantasie che fa. Il suo lato oscuro è forte quanto quello docile, è inarrestabile, si nutre dei torti subiti dagli altri e dalla vita, lo rende un Robin incapace di provare compassione per le persone che gli hanno fatto del male. Trovo che sia davvero umano e credibile in questa sua doppia natura che compone ognuno di noi.
Gli altri personaggi non sono da meno. Dorothy, la madre di Robin, mi è piaciuta molto. Una donna che aveva sogni, ambizioni, romantica e dal palato "fine"; delusa dalla vita e da se stessa. Il rapporto che ha con il figlio maggiore è qualcosa di davvero speciale, anche questo reso in modo magistrale. Credo sia uno degli elementi più intensi e belli dell'intero romanzo, qualcosa che viene narrato e mostrato fra gli alti e bassi della quotidianità e poi della tragedia, che rischia di infrangersi più volte e che alla fine sembra ritrovare un suo equilibrio. Il loro rapporto è particolare, quasi simbiotico e tuttavia difficile, sofferto. Solo per questo il libro meriterebbe di esser letto. E poi ci sono il padre, Clark, uomo inizialmente equilibrato e pacato, che di fronte alle difficoltà si sgretola e mostra tutta la reale fragilità di cui è fatto; Ruby, la sorellina che verso la fine fa stringere il cuore; Jackson e Larry (loro cugino), i cui caratteri fastidiosi vengono mirabilmente resi in poche pennellate; il vicino Todd e il nuovo amico Scott, esempi massimi di chi combatte per reprimere la propria natura o almeno nasconderla al mondo perché "sbagliata"; e tutti quelli marginali (che poi marginali non sono, perché hanno ruoli importanti seppure compaiano di meno) come la nonna Rena, il padre di Scott, il prof. Cortez, Victoria (ex migliore amica di Robin e sorella minore di Todd), gli zii Stan e Corinne (genitori di Larry). Tutti ben resi, senza il bisogno di indugiarci pagine e pagine, a volte attraverso poche azioni, parole o caratteristiche. Gran bel lavoro di caratterizzazione per tutti.
STILE E FORMA: ebbene, il neo doveva esserci. Lo stile dell'autore è davvero bello. La narrazione gode di notevole scorrevolezza e fluidità; le descrizioni sono sempre ben bilanciate ed efficaci, non esagerano mai e non annoiano. Anche quelle dei luoghi, per le quali facilmente inizio a provare avversione, sono funzionali e vivide. I dialoghi li definirei nevralgici, fanno capire ed emergere molto delle dinamiche famigliari e relazionali di Robin. In qualche tratto, specialmente all'inizio, l'autore usa quasi uno stile da copione teatrale per riuscire a dar voce a più personaggi nello stesso momento (Nome:"..."), ma capita solo in un paio di occasioni. Narrazione, descrizione, dialoghi sono ben distribuiti e si amalgamano armoniosamente, senza mai far stancare la lettura perché uno prepondera sull'altro. E l'autore ama molto usare le immagini e le similitudini, cui ricorre frequentemente per paragonarvi persone o situazioni. E le sceglie perfettamente, non sono mai artificiose o criptiche fino all'incomprensibile come ho letto in Cunningham (vedasi recensione sul suo libro "Una casa alla fine del mondo). Ma. MA... Ebbene sì. Il linguaggio.
Tralasciando l'inconsueto tipo di punteggiatura che la casa editrice applica, il problema per quanto mi riguarda risiede nel registro. Che si tratti di autori o traduttori, il mio discorso è generale: a volte sono le versioni italiane a essere rese più volgarmente di quanto necessario, altre volte è anche la versione originale a presentare termini piuttosto bassi. Quindi il discorso che sto per fare vale per gli autori che scelgono a monte di scrivere in un certo modo e per i traduttori/editori che, anche quando hanno un margine flessibile di scelta, optano per i termini volgari.
Il testo in sé è lineare, pulito e direi anche chiaro. Il guaio arriva quando si accennano le scene di sesso. Il libro da quel punto di vista è una voliera. Volano u**elli da tutte le parti, per non parlare di tutta una serie di termini altrettanto (se non più) beceri per descrivere parti del corpo e secrezioni. Ebbene, non ci sto, è squallido. Perché io non smetterò mai di ribattere alla schiera di persone che affermano quanto sia "giusto" usare quel registro per la narrazione sessuale da un POV maschile che invece NON lo è affatto, per tutta una serie di ragioni che ribatterò vita natural durante:
1) falso che sia linguaggio tipicamente maschile. Ma davvero esistono ancora questi discorsi sessisti? Proprio le persone che leggono questo tipo di letteratura, sostenitrici del mondo LGBT, cosa fanno? Si dimostrano legate ancora a concetti "di genere"? Quindi mentalità binaria, sul serio? Bella contraddizione. Senza contare l'immensità lì fuori di uomini che NON sono affatto volgari nell'esprimersi, e di donne che invece lo sono enormemente. Quindi basta con questa non-argomentazione che cerca di legare scurrilità a virilità, per favore.
2) il fatto che siamo nel XXI secolo autorizza a diventare volgari e sboccati? In pratica tradurre in maniera elegante, o quantomeno neutrale, sarebbe da Romanticismo dell' '800 e invece oggi è lecito involgarire qualsiasi termine possibile perché sia "realistico"? Beh, anche qui gran limite. Perché io non so chi sostiene queste idee dove sia cresciuto e in quali ambienti viva, ma a casa mia la volgarità non esiste. La prima parola volgare mi è sfuggita a vent'anni e mio padre non voleva nemmeno che parlassimo dialetto (infatti non lo so parlare). E molte realtà sono così, non per questo siamo persone ottocentesche. Si tratta semplicemente di educazione, ambiente, e se in alcuni posti può essere realistico, in molti altri invece no. Mi disturba che si voglia assolutizzare una realtà estendendo al resto del mondo le sue caratteristiche; è un modo di vedere le cose fallace e ingenuo.
3) molti contemporanei narrano scene sessuali. Ora mi spiegate perché una Anne Rice, uno Stephen King, un Haruki Murakami, quando parlano di scene di sesso non vengono mai tradotti con un linguaggio squallido? Eppure spesso raccontano di personaggi maschili. Ebbene sì, uomini. Eppure la traduzione mantiene un alto livello, come dovrebbe essere sempre. Quindi perché alcuni sì e altri no? E vogliamo parlare di quanti autori, attualmente (anche uomini) narrino scene omoerotiche senza mai scadere nel volgare?
4) ma poi, fatemi capire: usare termini neutrali, non voglio dire eleganti perché (sebbene io adori l'eleganza) forse a volte sarebbero troppo "alti" rispetto allo stile generale, toglierebbe qualcosa alla storia, al libro? Assolutamente no. Non penso. La bellezza narrativa non viene intaccata se si usano termini neutri; non "medici", sono NEUTRI. È diverso. Medico è "organo riproduttivo"; medico è "gonadi"; medico è "liquido seminale". Medico NON è "pene", "testicoli", "sperma". Ma forse parlo perché un medico in casa l'ho avuto, medicina l'ho studiata (e udite udite, sessuologia, quindi parlo con cognizione di causa) e distinguo perfettamente il linguaggio medico dal semplice e normalissimo italiano. Anche perché se un autore/traduttore volesse non usare termini beceri in pratica NON PUò farlo perché automaticamente cadrebbe in questo linguaggio definito "medico", non esistono altre opzioni. O volgare o medico, nessuna via di mezzo. Mah, molto, molto opinabile.
5) fingiamo anche di sopportare il becerismo. Ok, il protagonista è un ragazzino (non dico maschio perché questa idiozia sessista non la ammetto nemmeno per assurdo) che probabilmente non si esprimerebbe neutralmente e nemmeno come mi esprimevo io alla sua età perché il suo contesto è diverso dal mio, e va bene (ma nemmeno perché i contesti mi sembrano molto simili come famiglia e modelli educativi). Ma se vogliamo esser FEDELI all'ambientazione e al personaggio, un ragazzo timido, studioso, schivo, che cresce in una famiglia borghese e che non frequenta alcun gruppo o compagnia sboccata, mi dite che c'è di realistico nel mettergli in bocca simili termini? A me pare poco. Potrei capire un bulletto di strada, ma un ragazzo chiuso e di buona famiglia, che passa il tempo con la madre, una donna fine con la passione per l'arte e il buon gusto, ce lo vedo a stento. L'intero libro sfoggia un registro pulito, un bel linguaggio che va a farsi benedire solo nelle scene sessuali, per cui sarebbe sopportabile lasciare certe volgarità solo nel discorso diretto di precisi personaggi, ma NON nella voce narrante, anche se qui è pregna del POV di Robin. NO. Perché, semplicemente, Robin non corrisponde a quel genere di linguaggio, non è coerente attribuirglielo. Esempio: le ultime tre righe del capitolo 7, in cui Robin si sta masturbando. Il periodo inizia con la parola peggiore che si possa usare per indicare lo sperma (s****a), odiata perfino dai lettori più tolleranti, e termina con "impulso estatico". Ora ditemi voi che coerenza linguistica c'è. Si comincia con la volgarità massima e si termina con un'espressione elegante. Questo è solo un esempio di come il discorso "il personaggio parlerebbe così" regge poco. Ora, visto che penso "impulso estatico" in lingua originale non fosse molto lontano da questa espressione, forse il traduttore avrebbe dovuto optare per una versione del primo termine più decente, visto che l'inglese ne ha un paio e l'italiano molti di più. Se c'è scelta perché guastare un libro?
6) qualcuno asserisce che i termini sboccati servano a eccitare. Qui dico solo due cose: 1) questo non è un libro pornografico, non dico neanche erotico perché anche se l'opinione comune è che l'erotico "debba eccitare" (non so chi l'abbia deciso, ma non è affatto questo. Il pornografico deve eccitare, l'erotico parla attraverso il sesso, ma lasciamo stare), resta comunque di fatto che questo libro non lo è. E 2) ammesso che l'erotico (pornografico) debba eccitare, la volgarità non eccita tutti. Anzi.
Scusate la digressione, non voglio convincere nessuno della mia posizione sull'uso del registro, ma solo argomentarla, farla capire. Odio vedere bei libri rovinati da traduzioni pessime, e purtroppo la cosa è dilagante. In questo caso ci sono passata sopra perché l'opera è davvero scritta bene, tocca argomenti molto intensi, è scorrevole e non è una storia d'amore. Ma garantisco che quando trovo questo genere di linguaggio in un romanzo che si suppone d'amore, lo cestino senza troppi complimenti, perché d'amore non mi sa affatto. E ne ho presi, in passato, di ebook del genere. Tutti eliminati. Dovrò aspettare di trovare le versioni in lingua, ma se non altro so quali CE seguire e quali no. La cosa più grave è che poi si abitua il pubblico al becerismo, alla volgarità. Chi lavora nel mondo editoriale ha enormi responsabilità: fa passare dei messaggi, plasma la mentalità, educa. Se autori/traduttori abituano a un certo linguaggio facendolo passare per normale, resta da stupirsi poco se le nuove generazioni siano sboccate. Non fraintendetemi: penso di avere vedute molto ampie. Non ho problemi con nessun genere di tematica, non esiste niente che censurerei - non mi scandalizzano incesto, orge, pratiche BDSM - e mi piacciono anche le scene ben dettagliate, nel sesso. Amo i dettagli in generale e le scene erotiche non sono escluse, devo vedere tutto, mi piace; ma la forma può drasticamente cambiare ogni cosa. Non posso assolutamente dare lo stesso peso a parole come "s****a" e "bianco piacere" (traduz. per Anne Rice) per indicare lo sperma. Siamo proprio su pianeti distanti anni luce. E la cosa peggiore è che i lettori ci si abituano e finiscono poi, paradossalmente, col criticare o non apprezzare autori e traduzioni di livello.
Ricordo che un signore chiamato Umberto Eco, fra le ironiche regole per scrivere bene, dichiara "Solo gli stronzi usano parole volgari" (Regola n.14). E almeno lui un po' di credito direi che lo merita.
Il libro meritava cinque stelle piene e non posso dargliele, causa quanto suddetto. Forse la versione originale le merita tutte, ma l'italiana no. Peccato.
Chiaramente questa è la mia posizione, per cui chi non fosse d'accordo sul discorso "registro" troverà solo pregi in questo libro, perché è davvero intenso e ben scritto. Non è una storia d'amore; è una storia di scoperta. Di se stessi e del mondo, della vita, è la storia dell'abbandono delle spoglie infantili per cominciare il viaggio verso la maturità e la serie di rivelazioni che questa comporta.
Robin non è un ragazzo "normale". I ragazzi "normali" si interessano di feste, ragazze, sport, di fare gruppo e angustiare quelli che non sono come loro. Robin non può essere normale perché a lui tutte queste cose non piacciono: preferisce i ragazzi, i musei, l'arte, narrare storie; schiva ogni forma di attività sportiva e non sopporta pettegolezzi, soprannomi e prese in giro. È un ragazzo sensibile che sente il bisogno di parlare dopo un'esperienza sessuale, che vuole capire, sentirsi speciale per qualcuno; che ha un'indole dolce, romantica come sua madre, ma ogni giorno si scontra con una realtà che non è come lui e che lo ferisce, lo delude profondamente. Si chiama crescere. E assiste alla capacità umana di fare del male, dalle offese che riceve dai bulli alla freddezza dei suoi primi ragazzi, con cui si sente solo un corpo; dalla crudezza reale di New York e di chi vi abita - che rappresentano poi la vita reale e adulta al di fuori del proprio bozzolo perfetto - alla sua stessa natura duale che lo spinge a pensare e fare cose crudeli a coloro che lo feriscono. Il male è nell'uomo, è nella vita; è questo che Robin apprende nel romanzo. E per questo lui non può essere normale, ma è diverso dagli altri perché "quasi tutti prendono la vita come qualcosa di fondamentalmente bello, anche se ogni tanto capitano cose brutte. Robin invece ha l'impressione di aver colto la verità, una verità più ampia di qualsiasi cosa la madre gli abbia mai insegnato, ovvero che la vita è quasi sempre brutta, e questo perché le persone sono capaci di atti orribili. La gente è convinta che la vita offra una serie infinita di occasioni per ottenere ciò che si vuole, ma per Robin esistono solo occasioni infinite perché tutto ti venga sottratto". E questo entra ufficialmente nei miei passi preferiti di sempre. Parole che condivido pienamente.
Stra-consigliato a tutti perché tratta mirabilmente temi che riguardano ognuno di noi: la crescita, la scoperta, la ribellione agli stereotipi, il bisogno di conferme e lo sbattere contro una realtà di gran lunga diversa da quella che ci si aspetta. Disillusione e delusione.
Non consigliato solo a chi cerca storie d'amore, perché non è un romance.
April 12, 2018
The World of Normal Boys really took me by surprise. It's been a long time since I've read a novel in which I really cared about the main character and couldn't wait to find out what would happen next. It starts off promising and then BAM! about 60 pages in an unexpected event occurs which causes the novel to do a 180, veering off onto a different trajectory. At first I didn't know whether or not I was going to like the direction it took but by the time I reach page 100 or so, the novel hits its stride and becomes this heartbreaking coming of age tale. It's a bit reminiscent of David Mitchell's Black Swan Green, except it takes place in the US and the protagonist is gay.
The story goes something like this:
It's Fall 1978 in Greenlawn, New Jersey. The last days of summer are winding down and Robin MacKenzie is about to begin his freshman year of high school but he doesn't have any classes with his best friend and next door neighbor Victoria. Robin is bummed out about that and the fact that he and Victoria are growing apart.
Robin has a quiet younger sister named Ruby; a bratty younger brother named Jackson who torments him; an indifferent father who prefers Jackson over him; a glamorous, cultured alcoholic mother trapped in the confines of suburbia; a prick of a cousin named Larry who joins Jackson in tormenting him; and an opinionated and prick of an uncle named Stan.
Robin also begins to realize he's gay and has taken to watching and fantastizing about Victoria's older, hunky, jock of a brother Todd Spicer. Todd is Robin's biggest tormentor but it doesn't stop Robin from having a crush on him. One day Robin and Victoria talk Todd into taking them to the drive-in theater to see the R-rated version of Saturday Night Fever before the PG version replaces it. What happens at the drive-in theater and later that evening when Robin returns home is the catalyst for the rest of the novel.
As a result of the events of that evening, Robin finds himself befriending burnout Scott Schatz who has no friends, smokes pot, and suffers physical abuse at the hands of his loutish father. As their friendship "develops", Robin finds himself coping with his sexuality, his parent's growing indifference towards him and each other, Todd Spicer's sudden odd behavior, Ruby's sudden interest in religion, and his increasing feelings of guilt and betrayal regarding the events of that fateful evening. To give away anymore would spoil the reading experience.
K.M. Soehnlein handles the subject matter with frankness and sensitivity. He expertly captures the feelings of longing, confusion, sadness, and desperation many gay adolescent boys experience in their teenage years. At times, it was eerie how Robin's feelings mirrored mine when I was his age.
The World of Normal Boys is a heartbreaking, beautifully written, and impressive debut novel that will stay with you for days later. For those who are curious: yes, adolescent boys do masturbate as much as Robin does. Heck, we're at our sexual peak during this age.
This was a hidden gem of novel that has sat on my book shelf for a few years. What a surprise. Two items I have heard about the novel that slightly distresses me: 1) This is being made into a movie. 2) Soehnlein is working on a sequel.
I can only hope one or both of these items are worth the effort. If nothing else, reading The World of Normal Boys is.
SPOILERS ARE CONTAINED FROM THIS POINT ON. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU'VE READ THE NOVEL OR JUST DON'T CARE.
LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK. SPOILERS BELOW.
Just my thoughts.
The story goes something like this:
It's Fall 1978 in Greenlawn, New Jersey. The last days of summer are winding down and Robin MacKenzie is about to begin his freshman year of high school but he doesn't have any classes with his best friend and next door neighbor Victoria. Robin is bummed out about that and the fact that he and Victoria are growing apart.
Robin has a quiet younger sister named Ruby; a bratty younger brother named Jackson who torments him; an indifferent father who prefers Jackson over him; a glamorous, cultured alcoholic mother trapped in the confines of suburbia; a prick of a cousin named Larry who joins Jackson in tormenting him; and an opinionated and prick of an uncle named Stan.
Robin also begins to realize he's gay and has taken to watching and fantastizing about Victoria's older, hunky, jock of a brother Todd Spicer. Todd is Robin's biggest tormentor but it doesn't stop Robin from having a crush on him. One day Robin and Victoria talk Todd into taking them to the drive-in theater to see the R-rated version of Saturday Night Fever before the PG version replaces it. What happens at the drive-in theater and later that evening when Robin returns home is the catalyst for the rest of the novel.
As a result of the events of that evening, Robin finds himself befriending burnout Scott Schatz who has no friends, smokes pot, and suffers physical abuse at the hands of his loutish father. As their friendship "develops", Robin finds himself coping with his sexuality, his parent's growing indifference towards him and each other, Todd Spicer's sudden odd behavior, Ruby's sudden interest in religion, and his increasing feelings of guilt and betrayal regarding the events of that fateful evening. To give away anymore would spoil the reading experience.
K.M. Soehnlein handles the subject matter with frankness and sensitivity. He expertly captures the feelings of longing, confusion, sadness, and desperation many gay adolescent boys experience in their teenage years. At times, it was eerie how Robin's feelings mirrored mine when I was his age.
The World of Normal Boys is a heartbreaking, beautifully written, and impressive debut novel that will stay with you for days later. For those who are curious: yes, adolescent boys do masturbate as much as Robin does. Heck, we're at our sexual peak during this age.
This was a hidden gem of novel that has sat on my book shelf for a few years. What a surprise. Two items I have heard about the novel that slightly distresses me: 1) This is being made into a movie. 2) Soehnlein is working on a sequel.
I can only hope one or both of these items are worth the effort. If nothing else, reading The World of Normal Boys is.
SPOILERS ARE CONTAINED FROM THIS POINT ON. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU'VE READ THE NOVEL OR JUST DON'T CARE.
LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK. SPOILERS BELOW.
Just my thoughts.
October 2, 2009
I found the plot of this novel captivating enough to read a hefty chunk of chapters at each sitting, eager to learn what happens next. But for me it was hard to imagine that a 13-year-old, so naive, timid and mommy-coddled in the opening chapters, could grow so adventuresome and independent-minded that he would, as implied, run away to Manhattan by his lonesome. Robin turning into a gay Holden Caulfied was a stretch.
Still, many of the descriptive details seemed genuine enough. The boy's fascination with his frustrated, artistic mother rang true, coupled with the rejection he felt from his well-intentioned but unperceptive father. His relationship with younger brother Jackson remained murky throughout. Did Robin share some of the responsibility for shoving Jackson off the playground slide? There seemed to be an undercurrent of ambiguous guilt running throughout the story, an echo of the tree fall in John Knowles'preppy-bonding tale, "A Separate Peace." But we don't get a clear idea of how Robin resolves the guilt.
Robin's discovery of his erotic self was portrayed vividly. No doubt it stirred up powerful memories for many of us about our initiation into masturbation and sex play with other boys. But it is hard to figure out why mousy Robin attracted both the hunky older teen, Spicer, and Scott, his bad-boy peer. Only toward the latter chapters do we get an inkling of Robin as cute and increasingly smart-ass, a beguiling twink.
We're left to speculate about what happened to Robin once he reached the Port Authority without Scott by his side. Was it for just another brief escapade, followed by a return to New Jersey and dutiful enrollment in an artsy private School, as his mother envisioned? Or was he swept into the maelstrom of street drugs and hustling with a likely dark outcome? About all we know is that Robin apparently has turned his back on "the world of normal boys," has accepted himself as gay and is marching off on his own.
Still, many of the descriptive details seemed genuine enough. The boy's fascination with his frustrated, artistic mother rang true, coupled with the rejection he felt from his well-intentioned but unperceptive father. His relationship with younger brother Jackson remained murky throughout. Did Robin share some of the responsibility for shoving Jackson off the playground slide? There seemed to be an undercurrent of ambiguous guilt running throughout the story, an echo of the tree fall in John Knowles'preppy-bonding tale, "A Separate Peace." But we don't get a clear idea of how Robin resolves the guilt.
Robin's discovery of his erotic self was portrayed vividly. No doubt it stirred up powerful memories for many of us about our initiation into masturbation and sex play with other boys. But it is hard to figure out why mousy Robin attracted both the hunky older teen, Spicer, and Scott, his bad-boy peer. Only toward the latter chapters do we get an inkling of Robin as cute and increasingly smart-ass, a beguiling twink.
We're left to speculate about what happened to Robin once he reached the Port Authority without Scott by his side. Was it for just another brief escapade, followed by a return to New Jersey and dutiful enrollment in an artsy private School, as his mother envisioned? Or was he swept into the maelstrom of street drugs and hustling with a likely dark outcome? About all we know is that Robin apparently has turned his back on "the world of normal boys," has accepted himself as gay and is marching off on his own.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 16, 2018
This uneven story held my attention, but lost its momentum a few chapters before the ending. The theme is angst and anger, and the plot offers no resolution. The best chapter is Robin's escape to New York City with his quasi-boyfriend, and the novel peaks here. The author captures the grit, frustration, and agitation of the gay world, even for a teenager, in the many touchy moments. We can understand Robin's descent into bitterness. Unfortunately, the plot falls and never lifts up again. The plight of Robin's brother feels forced and needlessly dark. The father figure feels pedestrian and one-dimensional. The best character is the mother, whose domesticated feminism parallels Robin's yearning to free himself from social constraints.
March 12, 2014
A bittersweet coming of age tale but bit overwrought for my tastes.
March 12, 2017
Boring
The plot and storyline are boring. It doesn't get anywhere. Plus, I don't think the main characters have developped much. I expect more of it but it just doesn't deliver.
The plot and storyline are boring. It doesn't get anywhere. Plus, I don't think the main characters have developped much. I expect more of it but it just doesn't deliver.
December 16, 2021
REAL AND STRAIGHT-FORWARDLY TOLD
The story of Robin, a fourteen year old boy and his dysfunctional family, takes place in the late 1970s. I was only a bit older, spending my high school years in the early part of that decade. More masculine in my demeanor than Robin, I had an easier time in high school passing for "normal," but I could still very much relate to this character, his experiences and feelings. I think any gay person, regardless of their age or at what stage they are coming to terms with themselves, or like me, now in my sixties, having figured it out long ago, will see something of themselves in this novel and strongly relate to it.
Soehnlein writes in a very straight-forward uncomplicated style, but the story he tells is incredibly complex and rich with experiences and events that are so relatable. There's a sense of realness to his writing that is hard for me to articulate. Reading this book I often felt a sense of nostalgia and found myself distracted with my own memories, the isolation I felt and attractions I couldn't share. Certain secret experiences I had with other boys which telegraphed I was not going to be "normal." Thankfully, I was not raised in a family as tragic and dysfunctional as Robin's, but it's common for all of us to experience some sort of family drama growing up. Coping with it made all the more difficult by having to pretend to everyone, family, friends, peers, to be someone you are not. Worse, to be someone they were likely to condemn and judge as broken or defective.
If I had one criticism, it would be the "adventures" in delinquency Robin undertakes with Scott, a boy he believes is like him. While I found their interactions very real and the character of Scott as well written as our protagonist, I thought the truancy they engage in tested the limits of plausibility. It's a minor criticism.
Finally, while I would highly recommend this book for anyone questioning their sexual orientation, I would even more highly recommend it to straight people who know and care about someone engaged with this struggle. It will give them real insight into what the person they care about is going through.
The story of Robin, a fourteen year old boy and his dysfunctional family, takes place in the late 1970s. I was only a bit older, spending my high school years in the early part of that decade. More masculine in my demeanor than Robin, I had an easier time in high school passing for "normal," but I could still very much relate to this character, his experiences and feelings. I think any gay person, regardless of their age or at what stage they are coming to terms with themselves, or like me, now in my sixties, having figured it out long ago, will see something of themselves in this novel and strongly relate to it.
Soehnlein writes in a very straight-forward uncomplicated style, but the story he tells is incredibly complex and rich with experiences and events that are so relatable. There's a sense of realness to his writing that is hard for me to articulate. Reading this book I often felt a sense of nostalgia and found myself distracted with my own memories, the isolation I felt and attractions I couldn't share. Certain secret experiences I had with other boys which telegraphed I was not going to be "normal." Thankfully, I was not raised in a family as tragic and dysfunctional as Robin's, but it's common for all of us to experience some sort of family drama growing up. Coping with it made all the more difficult by having to pretend to everyone, family, friends, peers, to be someone you are not. Worse, to be someone they were likely to condemn and judge as broken or defective.
If I had one criticism, it would be the "adventures" in delinquency Robin undertakes with Scott, a boy he believes is like him. While I found their interactions very real and the character of Scott as well written as our protagonist, I thought the truancy they engage in tested the limits of plausibility. It's a minor criticism.
Finally, while I would highly recommend this book for anyone questioning their sexual orientation, I would even more highly recommend it to straight people who know and care about someone engaged with this struggle. It will give them real insight into what the person they care about is going through.
July 31, 2025
Дебютный роман американского писателя и квир-активиста, вышедший в 2000 году и быстро занявший заметное место в каноне квир-лита. Сам автор, уроженец Нью-Джерси и давний житель Сан-Франциско, ещё в конце 1980-х участвовал в движении ACT UP и стоял у истоков Queer Nation. Личная история сопротивления и поиска своего голоса ясно ощущается в его прозе, придают ей документальную достоверность и эмоциональную искренность.
Действие романа разворачивается в 1978 году в американском пригороде. Тринадцатилетний Робби — умный, чувствительный подросток, чья семья переживает утрату старшего сына. На фоне этой скрытой травмы он открывает собственную сексуальность: дружба с соседом Тоддом быстро вырастает в первую влюблённость и телесное притяжение, а столкновения с жестокостью ровесников и непониманием взрослых подталкивают героя к болезненному, но неизбежному взрослению. Soehnlein пишет о тревоге, чувстве вины и моментах радости без сентиментальности, позволяя услышать внутренний монолог подростка и увидеть «нормальный» мир, где для инаковости почти не остаётся пространства.
Роман перекликается с «The Catcher in the Rye» Сэлинджера и «A Boy's Own Story» Уайта и стал одним из первых, где столь открыто и подробно показана подростковая гомосексуальность, не превращенная в трагедию, без оправданий перед гетеронормативным читателем. Soehnlein подрывает миф об «обычных мальчиках» уже в названии: мир, объявляющий себя нормальным, оказывается опасным и нечестным по отношению к тем, кто не вписывается в большинство. При всём при том романтика здесь скорее не в отношениях мальчика с другим мальчиком (или мужчиной) — откровенные сцены сексуального опыта Робби описаны почти клинически и не вызывают особого отклика. По-настоящему реальна здесь только любовь мальчика к городу. К Нью-Йорку, в котором он жил, когда был совсем маленьким; к Нью-Йорку, куда они ездили гулять вдвоем с матерью; к Нью-Йорку, который, несмотря на пугающее столкновение с его тёмной стороной, остаётся для Робби городом мечты.
Действие романа разворачивается в 1978 году в американском пригороде. Тринадцатилетний Робби — умный, чувствительный подросток, чья семья переживает утрату старшего сына. На фоне этой скрытой травмы он открывает собственную сексуальность: дружба с соседом Тоддом быстро вырастает в первую влюблённость и телесное притяжение, а столкновения с жестокостью ровесников и непониманием взрослых подталкивают героя к болезненному, но неизбежному взрослению. Soehnlein пишет о тревоге, чувстве вины и моментах радости без сентиментальности, позволяя услышать внутренний монолог подростка и увидеть «нормальный» мир, где для инаковости почти не остаётся пространства.
Роман перекликается с «The Catcher in the Rye» Сэлинджера и «A Boy's Own Story» Уайта и стал одним из первых, где столь открыто и подробно показана подростковая гомосексуальность, не превращенная в трагедию, без оправданий перед гетеронормативным читателем. Soehnlein подрывает миф об «обычных мальчиках» уже в названии: мир, объявляющий себя нормальным, оказывается опасным и нечестным по отношению к тем, кто не вписывается в большинство. При всём при том романтика здесь скорее не в отношениях мальчика с другим мальчиком (или мужчиной) — откровенные сцены сексуального опыта Робби описаны почти клинически и не вызывают особого отклика. По-настоящему реальна здесь только любовь мальчика к городу. К Нью-Йорку, в котором он жил, когда был совсем маленьким; к Нью-Йорку, куда они ездили гулять вдвоем с матерью; к Нью-Йорку, который, несмотря на пугающее столкновение с его тёмной стороной, остаётся для Робби городом мечты.
April 8, 2018
Told with gritty realism and sometimes brutal honesty, this is a story about self discovery, the fragility of relationships, responses to tragedy, and the consequences of secrets.
January 22, 2019
Už dlouho se mi nestalo, abych knihu četla do čtvrt na dvě do rána. Zpočátku jsem byla skeptická, ale u druhé kapitoly jsem už byla plně vtažena do světa Robina MacKenzieho. Je to pochmurná četba, ale působí velice reálně, místy až syrově.
March 9, 2025
jesus christ. i cant read coming-of-age books in public anymore. i cried on BART, i cried at SFO, i cried on the plane. it's hard being a teenager and this book reminds me of that fact. life is confusing and complicated and you're just trying to make sense of yourself and the world around you. i'm glad i don't remember some of the shit i went through as a 13/14 year old. the highs were high but the lows were low. i always finish books like this with a sense of helplessness and jealousy. i can't turn back time, however much i beg for it, and books like this are just taunting me with stories of a time no longer accessible to me. anyway TGIF
cry count: 5+
cry count: 5+
January 29, 2011
Il più bel romanzo di formazione e a tematica gay che ho letto. Una perla in mezzo a tanta spazzatura.
Una scrittura magistrale, scorrevole, che rapisce. L'ho letto in un colpo solo: non potevo farne a meno. Straordinaria non solo la caratterizzazione del protagonista, giovane adolescente che si sente diverso, con tutte le sue turbe e i suoi problemi ad accertarsi e farsi accettare, ma anche quella degli altri personaggi. A cominciare dai membri della sua famiglia, dalle loro reazioni sempre più esasperate e sconvolte alla morte del fratello del protagonista. E che dire delle altre due fondamentali presenze maschile? Da un lato Scott, il lupo strafatto, triste e tenero - sì, mi fa proprio tenerezza - troppo giovane per i problemi che lo circondano, e dall'altro Todd, il vicino più grande, che si definisce "uno spirito libero", con un suo modo tutto personale di vivere la sua sessualità. E sullo sfondo l'America della crisi petrolifera e dei musical.
Una scrittura magistrale, scorrevole, che rapisce. L'ho letto in un colpo solo: non potevo farne a meno. Straordinaria non solo la caratterizzazione del protagonista, giovane adolescente che si sente diverso, con tutte le sue turbe e i suoi problemi ad accertarsi e farsi accettare, ma anche quella degli altri personaggi. A cominciare dai membri della sua famiglia, dalle loro reazioni sempre più esasperate e sconvolte alla morte del fratello del protagonista. E che dire delle altre due fondamentali presenze maschile? Da un lato Scott, il lupo strafatto, triste e tenero - sì, mi fa proprio tenerezza - troppo giovane per i problemi che lo circondano, e dall'altro Todd, il vicino più grande, che si definisce "uno spirito libero", con un suo modo tutto personale di vivere la sua sessualità. E sullo sfondo l'America della crisi petrolifera e dei musical.
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