A review by gnashchick
Atlanta Burns by Chuck Wendig
5.0
Girl Detectives. You know them: Nancy Drew, Ginny Gordon, Trixie Belden, and so many others. Atlanta Burns is the newest name on that list. The difference in this series is that author Chuck Wendig takes that beloved trope and drags it out behind the dumpsters of its safe little world. He roughs it up and hauls it onto a stage set by the mundane horrors of poverty, racism, and abuse.
Atlanta is an outsider. Not only is she a transplant to “Pennsyltucky” from the North Carolina, she’s returning to high school after spending months in inpatient therapy. She’s traumatized, and suffering from PTSD. Her peers are terrified of her. On her first week back at school, she breaks up a ring of bullies tormenting a smaller boy, and gains new friends, Shane Lafluco and Chris Coyne.
Wendig handles the incident that sent her to therapy with an honest delicacy, letting Atlanta come to grips with the trauma in small steps. Readers come along with her, gradually unveiling the abuse that Atlanta can’t shake. She self-medicates with illegally purchased Adderall and coors light.
Atlanta has to rely on herself because her mother is no help at all. It’s not clear if her mother is mentally ill, an alcoholic or merely dysfunctional, but she is a presence that Atlanta both condemns and clings to.
If I’d read a book like this as a teen, I know I would have identified with Atlanta immediately. The character is a flawed hero who meets violence with violence, and isn’t above using blackmail and threats to combat corruption. It's a powerful character, and a powerful book.
This is a YA novel, and would appeal to older teens. It doesn’t shy away from death or flinch from brutality. It’s the story of vigilante justice that leaves you cheering for the hero while at the same time knowing that it’s entirely unrealistic in a world where teens can be shot by the police with impunity
This ain’t no play-pretty. Atlanta Burns is a dark novel that doesn’t need any supernatural element to make your hackles rise. The real world is scary enough on it’s own. Yes, the novel is violent. The language of brutality is right up in your face, daring you to go ahead and try using a euphemism for that word to see if it makes you feel better. Try skating around rape and murder with a wink and a nod and see where that gets you. Tell me how you wouldn’t do the same thing if were in that same situation.
The novel ends on a positive note, with Atlanta and Shane making a video. In it, Atlanta records a video with an “It gets better” message that at first, pissed me off, then made me cheer. Atlanta Burns is no Trixie Belden; she’s damaged and violent and has problems that she can’t solve on her own. But she will stick with her friends, and be around to fight back against the bullshit.
I’d recommend this for older teens, say 16+, and adult readers.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Originally published at www.bookie-monster.com
Atlanta is an outsider. Not only is she a transplant to “Pennsyltucky” from the North Carolina, she’s returning to high school after spending months in inpatient therapy. She’s traumatized, and suffering from PTSD. Her peers are terrified of her. On her first week back at school, she breaks up a ring of bullies tormenting a smaller boy, and gains new friends, Shane Lafluco and Chris Coyne.
Wendig handles the incident that sent her to therapy with an honest delicacy, letting Atlanta come to grips with the trauma in small steps. Readers come along with her, gradually unveiling the abuse that Atlanta can’t shake. She self-medicates with illegally purchased Adderall and coors light.
Atlanta has to rely on herself because her mother is no help at all. It’s not clear if her mother is mentally ill, an alcoholic or merely dysfunctional, but she is a presence that Atlanta both condemns and clings to.
If I’d read a book like this as a teen, I know I would have identified with Atlanta immediately. The character is a flawed hero who meets violence with violence, and isn’t above using blackmail and threats to combat corruption. It's a powerful character, and a powerful book.
This is a YA novel, and would appeal to older teens. It doesn’t shy away from death or flinch from brutality. It’s the story of vigilante justice that leaves you cheering for the hero while at the same time knowing that it’s entirely unrealistic in a world where teens can be shot by the police with impunity
This ain’t no play-pretty. Atlanta Burns is a dark novel that doesn’t need any supernatural element to make your hackles rise. The real world is scary enough on it’s own. Yes, the novel is violent. The language of brutality is right up in your face, daring you to go ahead and try using a euphemism for that word to see if it makes you feel better. Try skating around rape and murder with a wink and a nod and see where that gets you. Tell me how you wouldn’t do the same thing if were in that same situation.
The novel ends on a positive note, with Atlanta and Shane making a video. In it, Atlanta records a video with an “It gets better” message that at first, pissed me off, then made me cheer. Atlanta Burns is no Trixie Belden; she’s damaged and violent and has problems that she can’t solve on her own. But she will stick with her friends, and be around to fight back against the bullshit.
I’d recommend this for older teens, say 16+, and adult readers.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Originally published at www.bookie-monster.com