A review by hyebitshines
Again Again by E. Lockhart
4.0
The last E. Lockhart book I read was [b: We Were Liars|16143347|We Were Liars|E. Lockhart|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1402749479l/16143347._SY75_.jpg|21975829] and what I mostly remember now is crying at the end in disbelief. I might have been sitting at a bus stop.
When I began this book, I almost wondered if I was too “old” for this kind of writing now — it’s not purple prose exactly but more so stilted lines and tightly wound up angst that comes out in questionable expressions. Like the bizarre art exhibits that Adelaide loves to view so much, I grew to accept the Lockhart sway to writing because unlike purple prose, there was meaning behind the style.
I kept reading in the difficult beginning because the possibility of parallel worlds and unexplainable remembrances always holds a soft spot in my reader (and writer) heart. And I’m glad I did. This story addresses the supposed commonality of insta love with Adelaide, our central character, who so badly wants to be in a love and for it to be reciprocated in a permanent, tangible way against the fears and uncontrollable circumstances of her life.
The different iterations of reality, of how Adelaide’s life could have gone, were poignant, not for their possibility or impossibility of happening in the reality that the book’s anchored in but because each iteration had the same kind of truth to it. The ultimate demise of Jack and Adelaide’s attraction, where perhaps the most “correct” version is the shortest one where Jack tells her he is seeing someone from their first meeting. The gradual repairing of Adelaide’s relationship with her brother. The teacher’s reaction to her summer project. Oscar’s generosity and kindness. The dogs that we begin and end the story with.
When I began this book, I almost wondered if I was too “old” for this kind of writing now — it’s not purple prose exactly but more so stilted lines and tightly wound up angst that comes out in questionable expressions. Like the bizarre art exhibits that Adelaide loves to view so much, I grew to accept the Lockhart sway to writing because unlike purple prose, there was meaning behind the style.
I kept reading in the difficult beginning because the possibility of parallel worlds and unexplainable remembrances always holds a soft spot in my reader (and writer) heart. And I’m glad I did. This story addresses the supposed commonality of insta love with Adelaide, our central character, who so badly wants to be in a love and for it to be reciprocated in a permanent, tangible way against the fears and uncontrollable circumstances of her life.
The different iterations of reality, of how Adelaide’s life could have gone, were poignant, not for their possibility or impossibility of happening in the reality that the book’s anchored in but because each iteration had the same kind of truth to it. The ultimate demise of Jack and Adelaide’s attraction, where perhaps the most “correct” version is the shortest one where Jack tells her he is seeing someone from their first meeting. The gradual repairing of Adelaide’s relationship with her brother. The teacher’s reaction to her summer project. Oscar’s generosity and kindness. The dogs that we begin and end the story with.