I probably had unreasonably high hopes for this book just because of its author. Maniac Magee was my favorite book when I was a kid, and it remains my favorite preteen chapter book to this day. But Stargirl didn't move me the way that first taste of Jerry Spinelli's work did. In fact, I was so underwhelmed that I had little interest in finishing the book, but it was a fast enough read, so I stuck with it.
The execution itself isn't bad. The character of Stargirl could easily have become a paper doll, one of those (usually female) characters who is so untouchable, so up-in-the-clouds perfect that she lacks any sort of dimension and can't be taken seriously. So, I'll give Spinelli that much--he conveys Stargirl's sincerity well. Additionally, she's deep. She has actual reasons for behaving the way she does, and they're actual, complex reasons that involve intelligence and creativity. I appreciated that she got enough floor time to actually explain her reasons for doing things, rather than just being a mysterious saint. Ultimately, though, Stargirl's earnestness can't disguise that she's just another Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
I have to remind myself that most readers of this book will be young enough that they haven't been beaten to death with this tired trope in hundreds of romantic comedy/tragicomedy/dramedy-themed books and movies. Boy--who is nice enough, but a little inhibited, a little in need of some inspiration--meets outrageous, free-spirited, earthy girl who changes his life forever by teaching him to stop caring what other people think and be silly and really live, man. I swear, I thought to myself at the very beginning of the book, "Any minute now, she'll be outside dancing in the rain," and then five pages later, she was outside dancing in the rain.
Some of Stargirl's actions made me uncomfortable, too. I know she's supposed to be the shining, free-spirited light among all the dull, uninspired conformists in the high school drone factory, but just because she has good intentions behind her actions doesn't mean they are all necessarily good ideas. Stargirl goes to a lot of trouble to reach out to people, and she does it without asking for any kind of thanks, but having someone sing "Happy Birthday" to you in the middle of a crowded room or broadcasting your love for someone without talking to them first has always struck me as somewhat inconsiderate. Some people just don't want that kind of attention, and nothing is more traumatic for them than having all eyes in the room on them, completely without their consent. It's true that Stargirl is portrayed as completely innocent, and it's highly possible that she lacks the necessary social filters to understand why being serenaded with "Happy Birthday" isn't always a desired gift, but it made me less sympathetic toward her. It kind of reminded me of those guys who propose to their girlfriends on the Jumbotron at a sporting event--it's arrogant to assume that everyone else wants exactly what you want, and ultimately, regardless of your intentions, it makes the gesture about you, not the other person (while all eyes are on that person, obligating them to behave gracefully even if they're going to pieces inside).
A more succinct way to summarize the last two paragraphs is this: the Stargirl character is inspiring but not original, and the heavy-handed message of Everyone Needs to Lighten Up and Be More Appreciative of Each Other is well-intentioned but shortsighted.
Otherwise, the story was all right. Stargirl might lack social filters, but Leo behaves like a complete ass to her, resulting in the story's somewhat bitter ending. I think this was a fairly realistic portrayal--he cares too much about the approval of the many to show support for the one. And I did appreciate the story's lack of a sugary, upbeat ending in the name of resolution. I like a protagonist with regrets. Leo doesn't seem to have changed much--for all his obsessing over Stargirl after she leaves, one gets the impression that if he got a second chance, he would still care more about fitting in with the crowd than about treating her well--but at least he gets to spend the rest of his life wondering about the one he pushed away. (Even that falls into the MPDG, too-good-for-this-dull-world cliche. Of COURSE he has regret. She's gone, so she'll always be exactly as she was at sixteen and he can idolize her and righteously lament how perfect she was and how stupid he was.) But Stargirl doesn't deserve the shitty way everyone has treated her, and she is probably at her most realistically human when she changes herself out of desire for Leo's acceptance. Likewise, Leo is at his most realistically human when he embraces the "new" Stargirl, then rejects her when she stops conforming. The journey to maturity sucks.
I'm probably taking this all way too seriously. The book was ok; I wasn't as wowed by it as most reviewers seem to have been; I should probably lighten up. But I've given my opinion.