sonia_reppe's review against another edition
2.0
The scenes are short and the 1st-person voice is kind-of streamy and hard to understand sometimes.
Some of the descriptions were good, but mostly the scenes were flimsy and the pace drove me crazy. The issue of child abuse was depressing.
He was right, life wasn't simple. Parts of it were--a frog scratching its head like a dog, the clean, heavy weight of a bolt in your hand, certain songs--and you'd try to hold on to these but you couldn't hold on for long. Things would get complicated, and the more you thought about them, the more complicated they got.
It's hard to explain about her. It's like trying to describe the smell of fresh-cut grass on those evenings in June when everything stands out from everything else, when the shadows moving up the trees are as sharp as the leaves that made them. You can compare it to something else, you can break it down into parts and hope they add up, but really it's about how it makes you feel.
Some of the descriptions were good, but mostly the scenes were flimsy and the pace drove me crazy. The issue of child abuse was depressing.
cook_memorial_public_library's review against another edition
4.0
A 2013 staff fiction favorite recommended by Becky K.
Check our catalog: http://encore.cooklib.org/iii/encore/search/C__Sbrewster%20slouka__Orightresult__U?lang=eng&suite=pearl
Check our catalog: http://encore.cooklib.org/iii/encore/search/C__Sbrewster%20slouka__Orightresult__U?lang=eng&suite=pearl
casehouse's review against another edition
4.0
Devastatingly sad. You can pretty much tell where this one is headed right from the start. It's beautifully written, though. Vivid characters. This wasn't billed as a young adult book, but it does read like one. There is quite a bit of intense language, so if you're put off by that, this isn't for you.
shelfimprovement's review against another edition
5.0
It’s really hard, I think, to write a book where it feels like almost nothing significant is happening and yet the reader does not want to stop turning to pages.
Mark Slouka’s pulled that off with Brewster, a slow burning book about sixteen-year-old Jon Mosher growing up in late 60s upstate New York. Jon’s parents never got over the death of his brother twelve years earlier, which leaves him feeling very isolated and disconnected. He is recruited for the track team and becomes determined to prove himself. He is also befriended by Ray, whose main motivation in life is to get out of Brewster and away from his violent, alcoholic father.
This book is about a lot of ideas: loyalty, the bonds of friendship, the turbulence of the late 60s, feeling trapped in a place that doesn’t want you. On the surface, Jon and Ray don’t seem like natural friends but they forge a connection because each is burdened with difficult family lives – Jon reflects that he can’t remember a time when his mother loved him because she’s too busy grieving for her first son; Ray gets into street fights to account for the bruises his father leaves behind. As Jon becomes a stronger piece of his track team, he and Ray share the dream of running away from Brewster with their third friend Frank and Ray’s girlfriend Karen.
This book devastated me, and that’s mostly due to the fact that I just wasn’t expecting it to be as powerful as it was. There are times when his narration is full of dread, a foreboding use of foreshadowing and I found myself worried that it might be too heavy-handed, especially because a lot of what was happening on the page itself seemed to be almost mundane. It’s just two teenagers trying to get by as they’re counting down the days.
But don’t let Slouka fool you – he’s gradually driving you into some very powerful territory. This book didn’t just make me cry the way that a love story with an unhappy ending makes me cry. This book left me emotionally raw, wishing that it wasn’t inappropriate to call up my therapist at 11 at night to discuss the feelings that a book had stirred up inside of me.
This is a book that sneaks up on you, then grabs you by the ribs and refuses to let go. I haven’t even figured out how to write about it without sounding like a blubbering idiot, so it’s entirely possible that I’ll scrap this and write a new review in a few days once I can wrap my brain around things again.
Mark Slouka’s pulled that off with Brewster, a slow burning book about sixteen-year-old Jon Mosher growing up in late 60s upstate New York. Jon’s parents never got over the death of his brother twelve years earlier, which leaves him feeling very isolated and disconnected. He is recruited for the track team and becomes determined to prove himself. He is also befriended by Ray, whose main motivation in life is to get out of Brewster and away from his violent, alcoholic father.
This book is about a lot of ideas: loyalty, the bonds of friendship, the turbulence of the late 60s, feeling trapped in a place that doesn’t want you. On the surface, Jon and Ray don’t seem like natural friends but they forge a connection because each is burdened with difficult family lives – Jon reflects that he can’t remember a time when his mother loved him because she’s too busy grieving for her first son; Ray gets into street fights to account for the bruises his father leaves behind. As Jon becomes a stronger piece of his track team, he and Ray share the dream of running away from Brewster with their third friend Frank and Ray’s girlfriend Karen.
This book devastated me, and that’s mostly due to the fact that I just wasn’t expecting it to be as powerful as it was. There are times when his narration is full of dread, a foreboding use of foreshadowing and I found myself worried that it might be too heavy-handed, especially because a lot of what was happening on the page itself seemed to be almost mundane. It’s just two teenagers trying to get by as they’re counting down the days.
But don’t let Slouka fool you – he’s gradually driving you into some very powerful territory. This book didn’t just make me cry the way that a love story with an unhappy ending makes me cry. This book left me emotionally raw, wishing that it wasn’t inappropriate to call up my therapist at 11 at night to discuss the feelings that a book had stirred up inside of me.
This is a book that sneaks up on you, then grabs you by the ribs and refuses to let go. I haven’t even figured out how to write about it without sounding like a blubbering idiot, so it’s entirely possible that I’ll scrap this and write a new review in a few days once I can wrap my brain around things again.
bookrec's review against another edition
3.0
I would have given it 4 stars but sometimes it was hard to figure out what he was referring to. I liked the relationship between the friends. I think you have the best friends when you are young and life isn't real yet. It seems so innocent, until it's not.
whitneyborup's review against another edition
5.0
This is exactly the kind of story I'm attracted to (there's even mention of the book seeming like a Bruce Springsteen song right on the cover). Scruffy teenagers trying to get by in working-class 1960s America? I was all in for that. Read it in a few hours today.
kirado's review against another edition
4.0
It'll make you cry, but I enjoyed it. A little cheesey at times, but still good.
exadius's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0