I won't pretend I thought Shusterman, the Tim Burton of YA literature, was worth my time before this book. I won't even say that I was so intrigued by the synopsis or the title or the cover art that I paid for it with my own hard earned dollars. All I will say is that my mom told me I would like it and practically put her copy of Bruiser in my hands, and the next day at work I was so incredibly bored I decided to read a few pages.
I got little work done that night.
Bruiser is one of those punch-you-in-the-gut, stab-you-in-the-heart kind of books that you run across only once in a long while. Does it have a bit of supernatural? Sure. A little bit of romance? Maybe a sliver. Action? Just a taste. What it is rich in is humanity. Shusterman's character study isn't for the faint of heart and this book isn't for those seeking a quick and easy read. He puts a price on happiness and asks the terrifying question, what would you do if you had a chance to live without pain?
Narrated by four strikingly different characters, Shusterman delves into the timeless theory that happiness is merely the contrast to sorrow. And you can't have one without the other. What's a life devoid of pain? Is it full of pure happiness? No. It's completely neutral which is no life at all.
Brewster "Bruiser" Rawlins is the embodiment of all the pain in the world, at least in the world of the other narrators, Bronte (his girlfriend), Cody (his kid brother), and Tennyson (Bronte's brother and the would-be voice of the novel). The thing about these kids is that they are just your average, everyday, normal kids. And the plot of the novel is driven by their average, everyday, normal situations. Think classmate rivalry. Think sibling quarrels. Think parent divorce. Think about your own adolescence and you'll probably come pretty close.
The seeming super power of Bruiser to absorb the pain (both external and internal) of those he cares about is very much played down. It's never explained why he has this ability, and unlike most YA novels involving supernatural elements, the kids don't go all Nancy Drew and try to unravel the mystery surrounding Bruiser's ability. Instead, they accept that it can't be explained and go on with their very real lives.
Bronte is the rational one. The one who sees the big picture and may be a little slow to notice things outside her teenage girl bubble, but once she does she makes very deep, very reflective assumptions about life, love, and happiness. Her voice is fast and forward and a little annoying at times but her narrations tend to be short so it's okay.
Cody is about ten and his narration is very convincingly naive. His voice is fun and entertaining. You just can't help but love him, yet it's hard to read as the events and consequences of his innocent reasoning unfold. But you can't look away from the car wreck, especially when it's as irresistible as this unstoppable kid.
Tennyson seems to be the real voice of the novel and as a reader you are inclined to take his point of view even when other characters are taking their turn in the narration. You don't always agree with his decisions but you relate to him and ultimately understand what he is feeling. He is the character that feels the most. His pain is raw and real and his happiness is sky high. When Tennyson chooses to live without pain by keeping Brewster close, you can't help but wonder, would you do the same?
Such is this book. Don't think you can sit back, detached, and come out clean. Shusterman puts a spotlight on flaws in humanity such as abuse, addiction, divorce, bullying, and assault, but counters it with true heroics such as self-sacrifice and accountability for one's actions. Be prepared to witness realistic brutality and decide for yourself what could be right in a world so full of pain. What is it we want more than anything? To be happy. Peace. Serenity. Shusterman is known for delivering the bizarre, the creepy, the unsettling. But maybe Peace is just around the corner after all. Maybe if it hadn't been for that unsettling stuff, you wouldn't have recognized Peace when it arrived.
Brewster gets a few pages of narration, but not until Shusterman paints a vivid image of him through the other characters. His voice is written in verse which sets him apart even more and breathes some fresh air into book that is so deep at times its almost stifling. Although the novel revolves around Brewster in a way, and how the other character's lives are changed when they get to know him, he is really just the emblem of what life would be like if someone could take all your pain away. Tennyson and Bronte are the true heroes of the story who ultimately decide that you must accept the pain with the happiness because true happiness is a flee from pain. Without the pain, then you are just standing still. And if you stand still for too long, you will forget what happiness is altogether.
Shusterman dissects the human heart beautifully. Emotional pain is something that psychologists are still trying to understand. It plagues the human race, but it's still shrouded in mystery. One thing is certain: it can be as hurtful as physical pain; it can lead to depression, isolation, violence, illness, and suicide. But as Shusterman points out, happiness is always on the horizon. A divorce may break your heart today, but tomorrow something else will come along to mend it.