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A review by agustplz
Everything Must Go by Jenny Fran Davis
5.0
What a strange, wonderful book this was.
I got my hands on an ARC copy rather than the now-published finished product, so I don't know how much of what I read still remains in the final draft. I mean, obviously it's largely the same, but there's certainly some minuscule differences that I'm curious about. (Also, how pretty is this book's hardcover? Is it even have as pretty as its' sleeve? I certainly hope so.)
I picked this book up half because of the gorgeous Pinterest-esque cover and half because I saw this book had a really good review here on Goodreads, and it was free, so it was really a no-brainer if I never read this anyway. And even though I have a stack of library books, unread, on my desk as I write this, I couldn't stop myself from picking this up in favor of the others. Though the book itself says the story is told in letters, journal entries, and interviews, I didn't expect to particularly enjoy the style or see anything productive happening for the narrative because of it. And yet, somehow, I'm mediating on a form that almost duplicates the identity crises of Flora throughout Everything Must Go.
Through this unorthodox format, we receive our narrator's interior thoughts in a particularly raw way - firsthand, through detailed journal entries and personal letters and emails. We also receive our outside characters' thoughts in a fascinating, complimentary narrative form; I can't recall novels where I've had so much access to secondary characters through so much one-sided dialogue. Not only are we provided more access to our narrator than previously available through the traditional format, but we also find ourselves privy to outside plots that, traditionally, stay hidden from the narrator and reader until they become the culmination of some central plot.
I think that discrepancy and divergence is what I loved most about this book. It effectively tells the story in a new, fresh way, and I think that's really hard to do in a market that is saturated with the same old narrative forms and cliches. I also found the message in this book to be fresh, and felt rewarded by the lack of clear clarification in identity for Flora. I rarely would say I felt satisfied by an open-ending; in fact, a lot of my reviews on here often feature a "I wish I knew what happened next, etc." comment somewhere in between my praise. But, in the case of Davis' novel, this open-ended, unsolved identity perfectly encapsulates the novel and its message. I like that this novel is, essentially, telling its readers that it's okay not to know, or to fit into multiple circles, and to be muddy and somewhere in-between and just not certain. I like that the confusion, discovery, and ambiguity is acceptable and welcome; it feels like authors - and YA contemporary authors, especially - are always ending with some resolution on identity, or some understanding of who you are and what you have become after the circumstances you deal with. Flora deals with a lot, but her outcome is uncertain and open; as she says herself, who says she can't be somewhere "in the middle" of all these identities she's finding in herself? I think that's incredibly true, and so accurate for teens and adults in their twenties as we all try to find ourselves, only to discover that we do contain those "multitudes" which Whitman writes about.
Davis praises all of these aspects of Flora, and breaks down stigma and fear of acceptance and expectation identity while also dealing with numerous other social and gender issues that I'm proud to see tackled in an all-inclusive way, even if it's a little wacky. I didn't expect this book to really be so magnificent and appealing and thoughtful, and it was a welcome surprise to join Flora on this journey and to read Davis' first book. I'll look for the next one and hope it's at least half as informed as this first one!
I got my hands on an ARC copy rather than the now-published finished product, so I don't know how much of what I read still remains in the final draft. I mean, obviously it's largely the same, but there's certainly some minuscule differences that I'm curious about. (Also, how pretty is this book's hardcover? Is it even have as pretty as its' sleeve? I certainly hope so.)
I picked this book up half because of the gorgeous Pinterest-esque cover and half because I saw this book had a really good review here on Goodreads, and it was free, so it was really a no-brainer if I never read this anyway. And even though I have a stack of library books, unread, on my desk as I write this, I couldn't stop myself from picking this up in favor of the others. Though the book itself says the story is told in letters, journal entries, and interviews, I didn't expect to particularly enjoy the style or see anything productive happening for the narrative because of it. And yet, somehow, I'm mediating on a form that almost duplicates the identity crises of Flora throughout Everything Must Go.
Through this unorthodox format, we receive our narrator's interior thoughts in a particularly raw way - firsthand, through detailed journal entries and personal letters and emails. We also receive our outside characters' thoughts in a fascinating, complimentary narrative form; I can't recall novels where I've had so much access to secondary characters through so much one-sided dialogue. Not only are we provided more access to our narrator than previously available through the traditional format, but we also find ourselves privy to outside plots that, traditionally, stay hidden from the narrator and reader until they become the culmination of some central plot.
I think that discrepancy and divergence is what I loved most about this book. It effectively tells the story in a new, fresh way, and I think that's really hard to do in a market that is saturated with the same old narrative forms and cliches. I also found the message in this book to be fresh, and felt rewarded by the lack of clear clarification in identity for Flora. I rarely would say I felt satisfied by an open-ending; in fact, a lot of my reviews on here often feature a "I wish I knew what happened next, etc." comment somewhere in between my praise. But, in the case of Davis' novel, this open-ended, unsolved identity perfectly encapsulates the novel and its message. I like that this novel is, essentially, telling its readers that it's okay not to know, or to fit into multiple circles, and to be muddy and somewhere in-between and just not certain. I like that the confusion, discovery, and ambiguity is acceptable and welcome; it feels like authors - and YA contemporary authors, especially - are always ending with some resolution on identity, or some understanding of who you are and what you have become after the circumstances you deal with. Flora deals with a lot, but her outcome is uncertain and open; as she says herself, who says she can't be somewhere "in the middle" of all these identities she's finding in herself? I think that's incredibly true, and so accurate for teens and adults in their twenties as we all try to find ourselves, only to discover that we do contain those "multitudes" which Whitman writes about.
Davis praises all of these aspects of Flora, and breaks down stigma and fear of acceptance and expectation identity while also dealing with numerous other social and gender issues that I'm proud to see tackled in an all-inclusive way, even if it's a little wacky. I didn't expect this book to really be so magnificent and appealing and thoughtful, and it was a welcome surprise to join Flora on this journey and to read Davis' first book. I'll look for the next one and hope it's at least half as informed as this first one!