You know that tv cliche of a bunch of really little kids getting asked what they wanna be when they grow up? And every kid answers something flashy like "Movie star!" and "Cowboy!" because it was the first flashy thing that came into their head? And then the story moves on as if there are no other thoughts in the heads of those children?
Billy and Girl is like that. I waited for the posturing to mean something other than off the top of their heads tv baby reflected sheen in their eyes... I waited to feel as in love with the characters as the author clearly was. I couldn't feel that. It felt like reading a magazine or watching a tv ad.
Girl has vague notions of romance. She has even vaguer notions about her daddy. I'm not sure where the Freezer World stuff comes in (I'm guessing it is a UK equivalent of Wal-Mart?), except some tossed in message! about unthinking latch key kids nursing on the teet of consumerism. I thought it was lazy. I wish that the multiple personalities had felt like, well, personalities rather than images to put on and play like a one-girl girl band line-up.
Billy was routinely and savagely beaten by their dad. Girl loved their daddy but mama made her do lots of chores and forgot her name (hence "Girl"). Billy loves the mom but she couldn't have loved him much. She lets him get beaten, for one (so does Girl), and then both parents ditch 'em. Girl takes out everything on Billy and Billy lives in fantasy land. To be happy the other one would probably have to suck it. A long series of vague fantasies like a two year old wants to eat candy all day long...
I don't want beep statistics. I didn't want the bravado! I wanted to feel like I wasn't hanging out with name dropping big talkers from my old high school, probably. These kids would be walk-on roles in a Law and Order spin-off show and felt like walk-ons. They just walked in and out, repeatedly. I didn't know anyone then. Maybe that's how it usually is... but why the hell am I reading this book for, then? The world just isn't made up of "we were abused so our every fart is special" (for all that happened to each other, they might as well have been on the tv in the room for all they took notice of reality.)
Billy's pizzas sounded absolutely disgusting. One time my ex ate this anchovi pizza, and just the smell made me feel sicker than I ever had in my life. I can't think about it without feeling sick. Nothing is more disgusting to me. Billy dumps the entire ocean on his pizzas. I want to throw up.
Next time a book description names "She's on a quest for the perfect cocktail" as a plot point, I'm not gonna read it. Just not gonna do it. If "My baklava angel" passes for fantastical endearments, I guess...
What did I need to write a review for? I should just say it's a series of fantasies that want to say we-hurt-the-ones-we-love without making anything near to a case for that. I don't believe you hurt the ones you love. I think you hurt people you can get away with hurting. The rest don't stick around.