A review by finesilkflower
Boys Are Dogs by Leslie Margolis
4.0
I'm normally irritated by gender stereotypes in so-called "chick lit," even the chick lit that I enjoy (that which is aimed at 11-year-old girls). Ordinarily, I'd never pick up a book called "Boys are Dogs." But I'd enjoyed a sequel to this, so I decided to give it a try. I was pleasantly surprised; rather than the actually misogynist messages that underlie many "men are from mars" type stories, this one came off to me as clever, positive, and empowering.
When Annabelle transfers from an all-girls school to a co-ed one, she has no idea how to deal with boys who call her names, take things from her, and steamroll over her in class. She's training a new puppy at the same time and, at first unintentionally, applies lessons from her dog training book to help her with boys, most of them lessons that would absolutely really work with people: look them in the eye; tell, don't ask; keep your words short and to the point; show no fear. The genders are actually irrelevant; Annabelle's example nicely illustrates that you can get past your first instincts of meekness and uncertainty and train yourself to act like the alpha, even when you don't feel that way.
More clever touches: The instigating factor for Annabelle's move and school change--and getting the dog--is her mom moving in with a corny, dadlike boyfriend, yet another way in which Annabelle's life is going from all-girl to co-ed. Annabelle's biological father was an unimportant short-term boyfriend of her mother's and choice not to be involved, a backstory I've never actually seen in another kids' book, which usually show two-parent households or divorced single parents. I like that Annabelle fully knows this story and is completely well-adjusted about it.
Areas of lacklusterness: It might have been nice to have a meek boy and thuggish girl in the mix for counterexample, though I suppose these really are statistically problems that girls are more likely to face. Mostly, I'm annoyed by the gaggle of cardboard cut-out gal pals. I know it's not about the friends, but it would be nice if they had attributes other than The Loud One, The Bookish One, The Hippie, and The One Who Likes the Dodgers. "Liking the Dodgers" is not a full personality.
When Annabelle transfers from an all-girls school to a co-ed one, she has no idea how to deal with boys who call her names, take things from her, and steamroll over her in class. She's training a new puppy at the same time and, at first unintentionally, applies lessons from her dog training book to help her with boys, most of them lessons that would absolutely really work with people: look them in the eye; tell, don't ask; keep your words short and to the point; show no fear. The genders are actually irrelevant; Annabelle's example nicely illustrates that you can get past your first instincts of meekness and uncertainty and train yourself to act like the alpha, even when you don't feel that way.
More clever touches: The instigating factor for Annabelle's move and school change--and getting the dog--is her mom moving in with a corny, dadlike boyfriend, yet another way in which Annabelle's life is going from all-girl to co-ed. Annabelle's biological father was an unimportant short-term boyfriend of her mother's and choice not to be involved, a backstory I've never actually seen in another kids' book, which usually show two-parent households or divorced single parents. I like that Annabelle fully knows this story and is completely well-adjusted about it.
Areas of lacklusterness: It might have been nice to have a meek boy and thuggish girl in the mix for counterexample, though I suppose these really are statistically problems that girls are more likely to face. Mostly, I'm annoyed by the gaggle of cardboard cut-out gal pals. I know it's not about the friends, but it would be nice if they had attributes other than The Loud One, The Bookish One, The Hippie, and The One Who Likes the Dodgers. "Liking the Dodgers" is not a full personality.