I don't know how to rate this book, and I'm hoping writing this will help me figure that out.
It must be said, this is an exciting adventure about a rat trying to save schoolchildren from an unknown disaster at the hands of an angry cat. My son was hooked. The writer draws the audience into Malcolm's point of view -- my son made all the same mistaken assumptions that Malcolm did, and was stunned each time Malcolm was.
What worries me, though, is the underlying message. Because this rat begins by passing as a mouse -- not due to anything *he* did, mind you, but because others who looked at him thought he was a mouse. And then they said nasty things about rats, so he was afraid and let them go on thinking he was a mouse. And then he got caught out, and ostracized, but still tried to live his life in denial of his innate rattiness (whatever that is) in order to prove to these anthropomorphized animals that he's more than they think.
"Okay," I thought. "This is going to be a story about dealing with people as people instead of as stereotypes."
How wrong I was.
Again and again -- even to the final page -- the message is not, "We were wrong about rats" but "We were wrong about you. You're not like other rats."
Nobody likes rats, is what you're thinking right now. What's you're problem? Fair question. :-D I guess I would say my problem is what happens when I replace "rat" with my own identity, and then with others:
You're not like other girls / 鬼佬 / Jews / Blacks / Mexicans / ...
It's delicious to hear, at first, isn't it? I'm special. I'm different. Somebody sees me as me, as a whole person. Unfortunately, it also says, "all the other people like you are a problem." It says, "we can't expect any better of other people who look like you." It says, "you're the exception that proves the rule."
This is how groomers get their claws in, you know? They make you feel special and like if you just try a bit harder to do what *they* want, they'll accept you despite your inherent failing of being an X. When you make a mistake or don't line up perfectly with requirements, they cut you off (and maybe worse). You scramble to prove yourself to be more than X by doing what they want.
The Midnight Academy has a mission, apparently, to keep the kids at this school safe... or so they claim. (We don't actually see any behavior in line with this.) They're an elite club... or so they claim. (At least one member left by choice.) When Malcolm asks directly what is the problem with rats, the response is not, "One of our members had a terrible experience with a rat and he assumes all rats are the same" but "Rats are complicated."
Are they, though? The one other rat in the story isn't complicated, he just chose a different life. Not a life I would choose, maybe -- but he isn't fundamentally doing anything wrong within the bounds of this book *except* not pretending to conform with The Midnight Academy expectations. He didn't sabotage the academy; he didn't out them. He just left, instead. And for this one rat's great crime of nonconformance and departure, all rats are despised (or at least distrusted).
By the end of the book, members of The Midnight Academy admit they were wrong about Malcolm -- he's not a terrible person just because he's a rat. They do not ever consider, however, that maybe they are wrong about rats. And Malcolm does not ever consider that maybe, just maybe, this crowd of people who damaged him both physically and emotionally is not a crowd who deserves him.
You're not like other rats / girls / Jews / Blacks / Mexicans ...
Yuck.