John F. Kennedy is quoted as saying, “What’s the use of being Irish if the world doesn’t break your heart?” Rebellious, Irish, bullied, gay, fifteen-year-old Seamus O’Grady is full-on to get his heart broken by the world.
Seamus exists on the fringe of his family, his school, his religion, and he never really feels as if he belongs or is wanted or loved by anyone. He hates school, though he’s very bright and creative; when the bell rings his brain “packs its bags and flies off to some f--- Never-Neverland.” As a Sophomore with a 1.4 GPA he definitely has little to look forward to in his Catholic school. At home, he is emotionally and physically abused by his father and grown brother, who constantly call him “fag” and “queer” and worse, and is emotionally abandoned by his mother, who cries and prays and does nothing. Seamus is bullied by schoolmates and pressured to conform by school and the Church.
But instead of sinking into neutral, protective coloration to avoid being mistreated—and this is why you have to love him—Seamus, perhaps unwisely, defies them all. Everything about him from his hair to his clothing and language are guaranteed to agitate, dare, and infuriate his abusers.
His Bad-Ass Attitude hides a vulnerable child-man who attempts suicide and who also dreams of running off to London and becoming a writer, mixing with the punk rockers he worships, living in a society that lets him write the works of genius he knows are locked inside him. But underage and jobless, he has only his determination to keep him going.
His only friend is Tressa, who is biracial, brilliant, and a cocky, fearless rebel against society, even though she is lucky enough to have a family who accepts her eccentricities. She cares enough about Seamus to give him the understanding and encouragement he so desperately needs. Though she, also, loves punk rock music her interests are wide and she introduces him to the new worlds of classical music and literature, and he embraces them with his soul without fully understanding why.
On the 85-A bus, Seamus finds himself intensely drawn to Colby, a young Punk who boards the bus with several friends. He weaves a fantasy relationship around the young man. The author does a wonderful job of making this fantasy painfully real in Seamus’ mind and heart though it has no existence in real life.
Though I wanted to wash his mouth out with soap before the end of the first chapter, I cared about Seamus and hoped everything would turn out well for him in the end, though I expected that the world would, indeed, break his young, Irish heart. The foul language in the book is not used in the unimaginative, sexual way so common in books today but as the symbol of rebellion and rage.
I don’t want to put spoilers here so that’s as much as I will say about the story except to add that near the end something happens that had me in tears of sadness and anger.
I had two minor quibbles when I reached the end. One is that the father, brother, and school officials—basically everyone in Seamus’ world except for Tressa—is a one-dimensional stereotype: completely homophobic, hateful, and vicious. On reflection, though, I’m not even sure it’s a valid quibble since the story is told first person by a teenager. Would any believable teen be analytical and subjective about people and institutions who hurt and reject him over and over? Would anybody? So I hereby withdraw that quibble and mention it only because other readers might have the same feeling. If the narrator were older or it was written from third person omniscient point of view, I probably would not do so.
That leaves me with one quibble and it is, admittedly, a very personal one. Seamus has a male therapist, Dr. Strykeroth. Though the author never, at any time, shows actual sex acts between the therapist and the teenager, it's plain that it happens. As an author myself, I know that authors must let their characters do what they have to do, but I have a visceral response to the situation that I can’t disregard. Perhaps that has no place in a book review; I don’t know. I should add also that at no time does the therapist seem to be taking advantage of Seamus, and Seamus not only seems to be a willing participant, he finds a way to turn it to his advantage. Still, consensual or not, that whole situation does make me cringe. In short, I did not like Dr. Strykeroth.
I thought Seamus and Tressa were wonderful characters and I hope the author follows Seamus into a sequel.
Anyone looking for an intelligent, well-written novel about a young rebel with a dream in a threatening world should read this. I hope to see more from Kyle Thomas Smith in the future.