A review by litletters
The Boy on the Bridge by Natalie Standiford
4.0
Before I started this book, I knew three things. One, that I had loved Standiford's earlier work, 'How to Say Goodbye in Robot'. Two, that this novel is somewhat based on the author's own experiences. And, three, that the reviews about it were mixed and somewhat indecipherable ("So should I spend $7.99 on it or what?" One review made me mutter). Many of the reviews I came across complained about the lack of realism in how quickly the main character--Laura--fell for the guy, Alyosha, and how easily she gave up her studies for him. Well in dealing with the later, that seems to be totally in character for Laura. She gave up her studies for pot-smoking, pseudo-intellectual Josh. Why not play with the GPA to spend more time with sensitive, actually-intelligent Alyosha?
In addressing the first complaint, I have to pull on my own experiences. No, I did not go to Russia during the days of the Cold War, but I did spend last summer in Ukraine. And I did meet a guy there and developed a massive crush on him in one day that has now lasted over a year, with only the kind of sustained contact social media can afford. Now I knew full well that part of his interest in me was because I am American, but that was 100% fine because part of the reason I was interested in him was because he was Ukrainian! He was passionate and smart and funny and handsome, and I was already intoxicated with poetry and politics. All it took was a few charming compliments and mild exchanges of flirtation, and one story about his involvement with the recent protests in Maidan square and I was feeling light-headed. True story. Now in America? I rarely date, and turn down heartily 9/10 offers I get. But in Ukraine? Whole other story. The intensity of the people, especially at the volatile time I was visiting at, carries you with them. Added to that I have dreamed of Russia, Ukraine, etc, my entire life, and it was only a matter of time.
That was my long (and very self-indulgent) way of saying that, based on personal experiences, it is realistic to me that things would progress the way they did in the story. And especially in that tense and fraught environment...if I had been Laura, and Alyosha had been a little more like my Ukrainian friend, I can't say I wouldn't have seriously considered marrying him just for the chance of a life; a real life, not the shell of existence afforded to bright, politically aware young students in the USSR, dreaming of more.
In addressing the first complaint, I have to pull on my own experiences. No, I did not go to Russia during the days of the Cold War, but I did spend last summer in Ukraine. And I did meet a guy there and developed a massive crush on him in one day that has now lasted over a year, with only the kind of sustained contact social media can afford. Now I knew full well that part of his interest in me was because I am American, but that was 100% fine because part of the reason I was interested in him was because he was Ukrainian! He was passionate and smart and funny and handsome, and I was already intoxicated with poetry and politics. All it took was a few charming compliments and mild exchanges of flirtation, and one story about his involvement with the recent protests in Maidan square and I was feeling light-headed. True story. Now in America? I rarely date, and turn down heartily 9/10 offers I get. But in Ukraine? Whole other story. The intensity of the people, especially at the volatile time I was visiting at, carries you with them. Added to that I have dreamed of Russia, Ukraine, etc, my entire life, and it was only a matter of time.
That was my long (and very self-indulgent) way of saying that, based on personal experiences, it is realistic to me that things would progress the way they did in the story. And especially in that tense and fraught environment...if I had been Laura, and Alyosha had been a little more like my Ukrainian friend, I can't say I wouldn't have seriously considered marrying him just for the chance of a life; a real life, not the shell of existence afforded to bright, politically aware young students in the USSR, dreaming of more.