Wanted to like Theories of Relativity but I couldn't. Sixteen-year-old Dylan is the son that his mother never wanted. One day, for seemingly no apparent reason, she kicks him out, leaving him homeless in a frigid, unnamed Canadian city. Barbara Haworth-Attard paints a bleak picture of life on the streets. Because of abuse and neglect by their parents, Dylan and other teens end up starving and destitute, forced into begging, stealing, and whoring themselves to scrape together enough money to fill their stomachs or their veins. The novel works well as a social commentary; Haworth-Attard does a good job of showing how easy it is for teens to fall through the cracks. Schools, welfare cheques, social workers, charities, non-profit groups, and law enforcement are inadequate when a family is toxic to its core.
I didn't like the way this novel is written. Dylan's voice just doesn't seem authentic. His entire life fits in a backpack, but somehow he's always spouting flowery descriptions of gargoyles and mist and reading about Albert Einstein. The motif of Einstein's scientific theories and Dylan's theories of life are so artificial. This is one of those novels where the author focuses on some abject topic, then acts like a SJW and tries painfully hard to be literary...ultimately creating a work of fiction that's nothing more than obvious award bait.
Theories of Relativity is bogged down by slow pacing, a cookie cutter cast of supporting characters, and convenient plot points that are barely believable. The author inserts so many characters—the pimp, the drug addict, the pregnant prostitute, the teacher, the non-profit founder, the aspiring social worker, the deadbeat dad, the deadbeat mom, the stepdad, the half-brothers, etc.—to show the reasons how kids can end up homeless, and the many terrible ways that the lifestyle can affect them. But most of the subplots just fizzle out, like Dylan's crush on 14-year-old Jenna, an angelic beauty who ends up turning tricks to fuel her new drug habit. Or when he tries to reach out to his estranged grandfather. The most unbelievable character is Glen, tech company president and founder of an alternative school for homeless kids, who functions as Dylan's deus ex machina. Whenever Dylan seems to be rock bottom, his nerdy benefactor is there to help him out. I'm not sure which is less believable—the president of a large tech company not being a greedy sociopath, or the fact that a school teacher volunteers with him on weekends.
I agree with many of the points that the author makes. Homelessness and poverty are huge issues in society, probably even more so now than when the book was published in 2003. She also lays the majority of the blame on parents who are complete failures (though in most cases, they're just continuing a cycle of abuse). Unfortunately, the way this novel is written falls completely flat. So yes, the author is taking on an important topic, and yes, the characters are full of pathos, but literally nothing else about this novel is good.