Helpful Score: 2
Twelve-year-old Jack is a Witcher. His family is at the bottom of the social ladder in their 1960s Virginia neighborhood. Their yard is full of junk, his dad is often unemployed, his mother is homely, and his older brother is a delinquent. In other words, they're "white trash," barely above the sole colored family on the edge of the neighborhood. Even though Jack is a straight A student and an all-around good kid, only one pudgy neighborhood kid will hang out with him. When Myra Joyner, the smartest girl in his grade, starts paying attention to him, of course Jack falls in love instantly. Unfortunately, Myra's brother and Jack's brother are sworn enemies, and when Myra's brother disappears, Jack's brother is the logical suspect.
The Romeo and Juliet parallels are obvious, with the Witcher and Joyner clans having several confrontations. Instead of Friar Lawrence, Jack is counseled by an obese Jewish jeweler (who was a little too creepy for me at points). But this story was so much more than that. Jack doesn't seem to fit in anywhere. His father and brother expect him to act like a Witcher, which means fighting and keeping their secrets no matter how illegal or immoral, because "Witchers ain't snitchers." The rest of the neighborhood lumps him in with his family, even when he follows all the rules of conventional society.
Wetta brings both Jack and the setting to life. I felt Jack's struggle, fear, and frustration. I felt the 1960s muggy summer heat and the racial tension. The writing often reads more like a college professor (which Wetta is) than a teenage boy, but Jack is telling the story from some unknown point in the future, so he very well could have become a professor himself. One example of this language is his repeated reference to the sagging family sofa as "carmine," never red or even dark red, but always carmine. As odd as it occasionally sounds, it's the vivid professorial description that really brings the story to life. The dialogue is much more earthy and entirely believable for the characters.
This ended up being an interesting companion piece to The Death of Bees, which I read just before IJiL. Both focus on outsiders coming of age, but are clearly intended for adults. (IJiL has language and violence that some parents may find objectionable, but isn't as gritty as DoB. Jack is much more sheltered than DoB's Marnie, partially because his family isn't nearly as depraved as hers, and partially because he's more the counterpart of Nelly. If Jack's older brother, Stan, had a voice in this novel, it would be a much nastier novel.) Both question the meaning and importance of family bonds. Both start slowly and end a little too conveniently. And both are fantastic reads.
The Romeo and Juliet parallels are obvious, with the Witcher and Joyner clans having several confrontations. Instead of Friar Lawrence, Jack is counseled by an obese Jewish jeweler (who was a little too creepy for me at points). But this story was so much more than that. Jack doesn't seem to fit in anywhere. His father and brother expect him to act like a Witcher, which means fighting and keeping their secrets no matter how illegal or immoral, because "Witchers ain't snitchers." The rest of the neighborhood lumps him in with his family, even when he follows all the rules of conventional society.
Wetta brings both Jack and the setting to life. I felt Jack's struggle, fear, and frustration. I felt the 1960s muggy summer heat and the racial tension. The writing often reads more like a college professor (which Wetta is) than a teenage boy, but Jack is telling the story from some unknown point in the future, so he very well could have become a professor himself. One example of this language is his repeated reference to the sagging family sofa as "carmine," never red or even dark red, but always carmine. As odd as it occasionally sounds, it's the vivid professorial description that really brings the story to life. The dialogue is much more earthy and entirely believable for the characters.
This ended up being an interesting companion piece to The Death of Bees, which I read just before IJiL. Both focus on outsiders coming of age, but are clearly intended for adults. (IJiL has language and violence that some parents may find objectionable, but isn't as gritty as DoB. Jack is much more sheltered than DoB's Marnie, partially because his family isn't nearly as depraved as hers, and partially because he's more the counterpart of Nelly. If Jack's older brother, Stan, had a voice in this novel, it would be a much nastier novel.) Both question the meaning and importance of family bonds. Both start slowly and end a little too conveniently. And both are fantastic reads.
