I read the book in nearly one sitting - two long flights. It speaks to how fully I was sucked into the story, choosing it over sleeping. And I like the way the narrative flows when read all in one sitting.
Big picture:
What I appreciated about this novel was the way it explored the idea of identity. One may want to be someone other than who one is, to start fresh and put a difficult past behind, or to simply think there are parts of one's life that are inconsequential to who one is. It is rarely true. The truth is that each of us is blind to just how much we are a product of our experiences and if we don't allow those we love and who love us back to know all facets, then there will be frustration as 2 plus 2 keeps coming up as 5. Not to mention that the part of ourselves that we deny simply begins to eat us up from the inside.
Little things that distracted me:
I kept asking myself if I found the picture the author painted of the rural mid-west was realistic or not. Of course, this is complicated that I am a mid-westerner, but grew up in a metropolitan area. However the university I attended was in a rural area and I have friends from the area. (Remember the whole Herman bachelor phenomena of the mid-90's? I had friends who were those bachelors?)
That said, I felt the characterization of Seth's mother and step-father were believable. Seth's mom in particular is frightening similar in character and situation of the sister of an acquaintance of mine. And sadly, Seth's step-dad can be found everywhere, if you are willing to acknowledge it. Cassie felt real in the way she lost herself in books and chaffed against her life - up onto the point she arrives in New York and realizes Seth is gay and her reaction to that. First, anyone who reads as much as she does would be more worldly about homosexuality than she seemed to be. Second, people in small towns watch TV. They've seen Will & Grace, they've seen Willow and Tara fall in love, they've watched the French lesbians help save the day on Passions, etc. There may be a slightly stronger 'don't ask, don't tell' sense in small towns, but not utter foreignness. There is a long tradition of "bachelor" farmers or "old maids" living together for years and people can connect the dots. They just don't make a big deal about it. Back to point. What would have helped is if it had somehow been more clearly shown that for as much as Cassie sneered at her mother's messed up religious ideas, some of those ideas, even if Cassie intellectually knew they were messed up, influenced her worldview.
One last thing and then I'll get off my small town soap box. In chapter 12 there is this description about how "so many of the girls [Cassie] knew from high school who weren't destined for college did things to themselves." It goes on to describe that they get pregnant, then marry or are cutters or are bulimic or are alcoholic or get fat or are meth heads. That's true of some. A limited some. There are some who do want to live in that community and farm or whatever and marry and live lives with which they are happy. Lots don't want to live there and leave, whether it is for college or often community college or beautician's school or wherever. Most aren't actively held back by family who may miss them but understand their need to strike out and find their own place in the world. It is a well written description with this rhythm that captured me, but the content distracted me.
The thing is even for all my "but... but... but" about the portrayal of small town life, it is a limited portion of the story. It is told through the point of view of characters who have various reasons to not have a holistic, even handed view of small town life.
Little things that mattered so much:
Loved the offer of the glass of milk. So unexpected, particularly in the setting. Sorta like Seth himself.
The moment that gave me chills because it was one of those moments of extraordinary human kindness at what felt like such a key moment: When Mr. Hecklin, the guidance counselor, makes Seth an offer and shares a bit of himself and Seth accepts. It is interesting, in retrospect, realizing just was a turning point moment that conversation and offer really was in Seth's life.
The pretentious-colored glasses through which Jim viewed and understood small town life and the people living that life. Jim was so easy to love as a character and as much as it saddened me that he has this fault, it made him human to have such a fault.
A small thank you for the line one of the characters (Mr Hecklin? The cop?) which clarified it wasn't Christianity that was to blame for Seth's mother's read of what a good wife and mother does and ignores, but the particular dynamics of that church. (Yeah, I totally admit to being hypersensitive to how Christianity is portrayed. I'm not saying it needs to or should be portrayed as always being lightness and goodness, but too often it is lumped together as being purely those who have extreme views that I, too, find distasteful.)
The big reveal in the trailer. (Yes, I'm being vague as all get out. Don't want to ruin it.) It totally caught me by surprise, yet the moment of the reveal was an ah ha where a bunch of little details fell into place, giving me that "but of course" feeling. So a good reveal. The type where, maybe, if I had read this in slower chunks, gone back to a particular scene when I had a question later about one of the characters, I might have seen it coming. But probably not. But the clues were there that I could have. To me that's a good reveal. Not like the annoying reveals that ::cough::Dan Brown::cough:: does, where it is freaking impossible to have known who the villain was prior to the reveal because the clues sucked or didn't exist at all.
The use of present tense in part 6. It created a sense of skip-hop, push-pull in the narrative. Which to me, without giving away the ending, tells the reader as much about where the characters are in the end as does the words. Life (and love) is not smooth flowing. It ebbs and flows. It pushes and pulls. It is the now and the past and the what we hope it will be.