I finished reading this book over a week ago, yet I am still mulling it over; I've gleaned a main point from it, a set of ideas, but I wonder if I didn't miss something -- this novel is that layered. I want to read it again.
Part of the complexity comes, I believe, from the translation; this is the first Russian YA novel to be translated to English, and there is a darling, slightly stilted quality to the prose that comes across as introspective and almost poetic.
Within the first few pages, we see that Grisha, the protagonist, is quite obviously in love with one of the actors with whom he works at the theater where he lives. For Grisha, this simply is; he does not shrink from his homosexuality, nor does he celebrate it; he does not even acknowledge the fact. Grisha is, on the whole, a timid, sensitive, thoughtful character who sees and feels deeply, and because of his perceptive capabilities, hides himself from others and their potential observations, behind "masks." He loves Sam, the actor, and he loves the Jester, one of Sam's puppet characters; Grisha connects with both of them because of their ability to morph, to become other and to hide their true personas.
Throughout the novel, Grisha struggles with the idea that people seem incapable of being themselves. He knows that he struggles with being true to himself, and just about everybody he encounters hides behind a mask; this is disturbing to him. Eventually, he becomes disgusted with himself for being a jester, for behaving like a marionette when one of its strings has been twitched, and throws off his mask, coming finally into his own and embracing every part of who he is.
With this self-acceptance comes a drive to do, to act, not just to exist in fear; significantly, Grisha even attempts the crafting of his own version of the Jester puppet to give to his friend [whom he calls his godsister] Sashock, who is facing heart surgery.
There are multiple strong themes running throughout this novel -- self-acceptance, acceptance of others, conquering fear, the moral and ethical dilemma that is deciding between what is right and what is necessary, definitions of family and of humanity, politics in the workplace. Over all of this somber, important discussion -- which is handled beautifully -- is a loving anthropomorphic treatment of the theatre itself; under the author's pen it comes alive to assist Grisha and Sashock in their mischiefs, to laugh, to cry, to breathe with the actors and technicians. Clearly, the author is familiar with and enchanted by the magic of that world, and invites the readers into that other realm to be moved as well.
I predict that this book will be treated very simply, as a trendy, politically correct, coming-out, equal rights and equal love YA novel. Readers will empathize with Grisha and enjoy the setting. My fear is that the more subtle but crucial elements will be glossed over, because no one will care to look beyond the surface.
My recommendation, then, is that we suggest this book to our mature young readers and encourage them to dive deeper into the text; there is so much here, concepts worthy of reflection and discussion, and characters that demand love and respect as well as disdain. I don't presume to know what the author intended, but I would like to attribute to her and not to a trick of the translation, the deeply clever and moving nature of this story.