[Note: I wrote this post in December but only got around to finishing/posting it now. Enjoy my dated references!]
In a recent post I mentioned that I've been holding off on buying books because it is the holiday season and I would not want to deprive my family of the pleasure of buying books for me. (Ha, but seriously, I am an excellent gift-opener. I do not hold back with the joyous facial expressions.) But, of course, my resolution was destined for failure. I went into my neighbourhood industrial-size bookstore, convinced once again that my loved ones would probably enjoy books as presents. (This is a mistake I make every year. My family reads, and avidly, but I never escape the common trap of buying books that I'd like to read rather than books I think they would enjoy.) Anyway, I was browsing and pretending any purchases would be for other people when I saw The Mockingbirds by Daisy Whitney. This book was on the NPR Best YA of 2010 list, and that's pretty much all it took for me to give in and buy it.
This is a powerful book about a difficult subject. I'll let the publisher's synopsis explain for you:
Themis Academy is a quiet boarding school with an exceptional student body that the administration trusts to always behave the honorable way—the Themis Way. So when Alex is date raped during her junior year, she has two options: stay silent and hope someone helps her, or enlist the Mockingbirds—a secret society of students dedicated to righting the wrongs of their fellow peers. In this honest, page-turning account of a teen girl's struggle to stand up for herself, debut author Daisy Whitney reminds readers that if you love something or someone—especially yourself—you fight for it.
To be honest, books about "special" subjects sometimes concern me, because they can often be too after-school special for my liking. But Whitney impressed me by consistently choosing the difficult route. Alex realizes right away that she's been raped, but she comes to that conclusion through evidence rather than memory: she can't remember much of the night before, but waking up naked next to a boy, coupled with seeing two condom wrappers in his trash can, is enough for her to realize she must have had sex. The complicated issue of consent is explored through flashbacks that slowly restore Alex's memory of the night.
This book was, at times, an almost painful reminder of how cruel high school can be. Alex's rapist does not take the accusation lightly. It was also a thoughtful exploration of how consent is misunderstood; many students were against Alex, and all the usual excuses appeared: she was drunk so it was her fault, she was flirtatious so she was asking for it, she was lying to get attention. While I can vehemently disagree with these viewpoints at this time in my life, it is chilling to think about how many girls I knew of in high school who were labeled like this, and to wonder how many of them might have "earned" their reputations in similar ways. I can't remember any actual rape accusations, but that doesn't mean rape didn't happen; it more likely means that because we weren't educated about the nuances of consent we didn't recognize rape when it happened.
This book is the rare example of an issue-centric novel that is an entertaining and engrossing read. Recommend!
