Yes, yes he finally does...at around page 290 out of 300. Up until that point you have to put up with a lot of alternately tedious and offensive scenes. After reading this book, I realize, though, how difficult it is to create this type of teenage boy narrator (think Holden Caulfield, only less interesting). The narrator in this book is such a tool, it's really hard to get through it in one sitting--I had to put the book down several times, and even once walked out of a coffee shop I was so irritated.
So, what's wrong with the book? First, the tedious--there's really nothing new, unique, or specific in its portrayal of freshman year of high school. There's scenes with the football team, parties, a fight...I get that the author is trying to relate some sort of universal male high school experience, but both the humor and conflict feel recycled. There are not 1 but two parties in which the cops show up to chase the narrator, 2 instances of the narrator deeply cutting himself with a razor while trying to shave. Sound exciting yet?
Secondly, the narrator. It's really hard to like this guy...or really easy if one isn't aware of what the author is up to. Yup, this novel's just as deliberate as Twilight--that one's wish fulfillment for girls, this is the same for boys. Carter, the protagonist, is attractive, a star athlete (football and swimming!), and scores the lead in the school play. In other words, he's Mr. Popular, the kind of person everyone hates/hopes to be. But wait, you say--is he perfect? Well, no, he's not great at academics and has ADD--both of which the author exploits to make his protagonist cooler, and neither of which are actually dealt with seriously by the novel. Well, maybe he has a great personality, like the narrator in The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, you might wonder? Nope. He's a complete tool (until he matures slightly in the last chapter). He's the type of guy that does mean, manipulative things, but then feels guilty and cries victim. The, 'yeah-I-just-screwed-up, but-now-I-realize-it-and-am-crying-so-it's-okay-that-I-was-a-total-jerk' attitude. The, 'in-fact-you-should-like-me-and-give-me-your-pity' attitude. Mind you, he's also attractive and an extracurricular and athletic star--a real outsider. It's so much easier to like the (minor) villains of the book because at least they don't cry victim. Crying does not equal sensitivity, especially when the same mistakes keep happening--it just means you're a jerk who feels guilty about being one. Maybe those mistakes could be explained as part of learning and growing up, however, if there wasn't...
Finally, the offensive. No, I'm not talking about the sex, drinking, etc. I actually think that those are appropriate topics for a high school novel. No, I'm talking about the frequent use of 'bitch,' 'gay,' and 'retard.' No, not 'bitch' used to refer to women--although that does happen--'bitch' used in the context, of 'I'm crying like a little bitch...' (see previous paragraph). Or, how about when the narrator looks forward to having a 'bros before hos' night. Yup, we're in whiteboylandia, and it's painful. Or, how about this exchange...in the last chapter, no less!:
'He's also gay.' She laughs.
'Oh...What? You mean, he's gay, like, he's a dumbass?' I reply.
'No, I mean he's homosexual, like, he's attracted to boys,' she clarifies. 'You're gay, like, a dumbass.'
Yeah, that's progressive--let's distinguish the different meanings of the word 'gay,' thus validating the meaning of it as 'dumb.' I'm all for realism when it comes to language, but a) You have to go all the way, or not at all. This novel pulls up short--for example, the f-bomb rarely, if at all, shows up, while 'gay' and 'retard' happen over and over; and b) It's always nice to have someone, anyone, but preferably the narrator, questioning those stereotypes at some point in the book. Maybe, for example, at the end when he's supposedly matured, he would question the use of 'gay,' etc. But this protagonist never really does (perhaps that's what makes it more realistic, and sad).
But this novel isn't about questioning stereotypes or presenting high school from the point of view of a true outsider--there are plenty of good books that do that (Speak, the previously mentioned Sherman Alexie novel, Will Grayson, Will Grayson, to name a few). Nope, this book's about giving a white, middle class, heterosexual point of view of high school--and it's a pretty bland journey. If that's what you want, though, here you have it. You might even be waiting with baited breath for 'Carter Pledges a Fraternity' and 'Carter Goes to Law School.'