Review | Dare Me, Megan Abbott

Megan Abbott’s Dare Me was much more chilling than I’d expected. Remember high school? Friendship is important no matter how old you are, but somehow, in high school, the status of friend took on an almost do or die quality. Friendship was a status symbol, as was the ever elusive BFF tag. This is not to diminish high school friendships — many of the deepest, most lasting friendships I have were forged in high school. Still, the thrill of having a popular classmate, the Queen Bee of whatever social group, notice you, even validate you, seems to have been strongest in high school.

Dare Me is a cheerleading novel, depicting a world Bring It On and Sweet Valley never revealed. Cheerleading in Dare Me is like ballet in Center Stage: tough, competitive, borderline physically abusive. Yet unlike Center Stage or any similar sports movie, Dare Me uses cheerleading as the backdrop for an exploration of female teenage friendship and its entrenched social hierarchy. We have passages about cheerleading, poetic descriptions of bodies knifing through the air in death defying stunts, yet these descriptions never feel romantic like, say, Chris Cleave’s depiction of cycling in Gold felt romantic. There’s anger and defiance in Abbott’s descriptions of cheerleading stunts — in the parlance of her characters, a big fuck you, bitches, watch me fly.

The story is narrated by Addy, lifelong lieutenant of cheerleading captain Beth, until Coach French takes over the cheerleading squad, and wins Addy over. In some ways, Coach French is the kind of inspirational leader/mentor young people long for — she believes in the squad’s competitive potential, and has the ability to make the members exceed their limitations. She also takes her role too far, demanding both athletic excellence and eating disorder level diets from her squad.

What makes Coach French truly creepy however, is that she is a Mean Girl that never grew up. She clashes immediately with Beth, mostly because there can be only one Queen Bee, and the whole idea of a woman in her late twenties waging war against a high schooler for clique supremacy shows just how lonely and messed up Coach French is. She tells Addy that Beth’s scheming is amateur, yet ironically, her own tactics are very high school. For example, to cut Beth down to size, she fires her as cheerleading captain (even removes the role completely) and assigns Flyer (the star in squad routines) to a girl Beth always picks on. This could have been an empowering move by an adult, but Coach French’s glee in seeing Beth’s frustration keeps her just as immature as her adversary.

Beth is hardly a character that evokes sympathy — she’s bitchy and manipulative, and she tears down other girls just to win the battle against Coach French. Yet, buried deep inside is a touching vulnerability, most clearly seen in her friendship with Addy. At several points in the story, she calls Addy stone cold, tough, a fox. “It was always you,” she says. Addy may have been Beth’s second-in-command, but we see how much the power dynamic is really reversed from Beth’s point of view. Even though Addy doesn’t realize it, Beth really craves her approval, her validation, above all, her friendship. So when Addy, like the rest of the squad, becomes enthralled with Coach French, Beth’s battle against the coach becomes personal — much more than supremacy over a cheerleading squad, it’s a battle to be Addy’s BFF. Dare Me dares to explore just how far some girls will go to win such a battle, and kudos to Abbott for not holding back.

Dare Me is ultimately Addy’s story, however. At the centre of Coach French and Beth’s power struggle, Addy is embroiled in a lot of seriously messed up events, and when everything seems to be about power dynamics, she is unsure who she can trust. Addy is in a state of flux, both uninterested in going above her lieutenant role and secretly yearning to be the Flyer on the squad, the Queen Bee as it were. Well, why not me? she asks. Why not, indeed?

Dare Me didn’t blow me away. It started off slow for me, possibly because Abbott’s language sometimes slipped into Virgin Suicides-style philosophizing and navel gazing, e.g. an early rumination on how long it takes to wash off the glitter after a game. The whole cheerleading-as-metaphor angle also seemed overdone at times — at one point, a former squad member comments that being a spectator rather than a participant for the first time made her realize that the cheerleaders looked like they were killing themselves, literally. The comment was just overly dramatic, and the message far too hammered home.

However, Dare Me definitely exceeded my expectations. A dark and twisted take on friendship and cheerleading as blood sport, Dare Me thrills and disturbs.

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Thank you to Hachette Book Group Canada for a finished copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Insurgent, Veronica Roth

When I read Veronica Roth’s Divergent, I thought it was a good book that had the potential for a great sequel. Insurgent is that sequel, and it is even better than I’d predicted. Now that Roth has established how her world works in Divergent, she gives herself the freedom to rip it apart completely. The book started out really confusing for me, because I hadn’t read Divergent in a year and I was too lazy to  read the Guide to Divergent that the author had very thoughtfully posted on her site. Tip: read that guide. That being said, even though, other than Tris and Four, I had no idea who the other characters were, I got to know them and quickly came to care for them, just from reading Insurgent.

Insurgent is just amazing. I love how real it felt — Tris has been scarred, literally and figuratively, from the events in Divergent. (Warning: Divergent spoilers ahead.) She has been through some horribly traumatic events, and I love that Roth never lets us forget it. We are constantly reminded that Tris doesn’t have time to heal — her shoulder, injured in Divergent, can be used against her in battle. Her shooting of her good friend Will traumatizes her so that she is unable to use a gun, and also too ashamed to explain why. These plot points figure prominently throughout Insurgent, and I love how they are more than just dramatic plot points; they have become integral parts of Tris’ character.

I’d never been a big fan of the physical “courage” of the Dauntless — as revealed in their training sessions, it seemed more reckless adrenaline hunts than actual courage. So I love that Tris reveals her Divergent side in this book. She still has a temper and a tendency to be reckless, but these are more because of her trauma than actual recklessness. She is tired, guilty over Will, and wanting to be with her parents, so a part of her seeks dangerous situations — this strikes me as a very understandable reaction to all she’s been through, and I love that even with this desire, she still has logical reasons for her actions. I’ve always been a fan of Erudite, even though the villain Jeanine is from that faction, so I love that Tris’ being a Divergent means she has a very strong Erudite side. Tris is just kick-ass, both physically and intellectually, and she really takes charge in this book.

The best part? We find out why Jeanine has acted as she did, and the reason sets us up for what could be a killer finale. It’s a risky revelation, and such a big twist that I wasn’t sure how I felt about it beyond that it reminded me of a plot point from The Hunger Games. (Given how many plot twists there are in The Hunger Games, I think it’s safe to make that comparison without risking any spoilers.) I do know that while Divergent is good, and Insurgent is amazing, the third book has the potential to be even better. After seeing how wonderfully Roth exceeded my expectations and raised the stakes in Insurgent, I can’t wait to see what she’ll come up with next!

Anyone have a betting pool as to what the title of book 3 will be? I’m putting it on record — I’d long predicted it’ll be Convergent, but after reading this book, I now think it’ll be Resurgent. Or, more likely, Roth will decide to surprise us all and choose a different title altogether for book 3, one that doesn’t end in “gent.”

Review | The Calling, Kelley Armstrong

Kelley Armstrong cranks up the action in The Calling, Book 2 of the Darkness Rising trilogy. At the end of Book 1, The Gathering, Maya and her friends have been rescued from a forest fire by a helicopter. Maya has discovered that she is a skin walker — able to communicate with animals and will eventually have the ability to change into an animal herself — and that her hometown has mysterious links to a research facility that appears to be genetically breeding children with supernatural powers. In The Calling, a dramatic helicopter crash leads to Maya and her friends stranded in an unfamiliar forest, pursued by a corporation that wants their powers.

What follows is an action-packed race through the woods to safety. It’s great seeing Maya in action as a shape-shifter. I found the scene when she actually does battle in animal form to be especially cool. Even better, we learn about other characters’ superpowers as well. Daniel has a particularly impressive power — definitely my pick if I could have one — and he really steps up in this book as an amazing best friend. Dear Maya: forget Rafe. Team Daniel all the way! That being said, Daniel and Maya’s relationship in this book appears strictly platonic, but I hope Daniel finds some romance himself. I also loved learning about Sam’s past — her background is so different from Maya’s and the others, and she has good reason to be so sharp and mistrustful.

The true standout, for me, is Corey. I love his character, and I love that the mystery behind his migraines gives a sense that he will be even more vital to the plot in Book 3. Will he be a powerful hero? Possibly a scarred villain? Or maybe even a scared victim? No clue, but he’s a fascinating character with much more going on beneath the surface. I can’t wait to find out what his migraines really mean, and I hope it turns out that he really has a kick ass superpower!

For teachers, parents, anyone interested in good books for young adults, Calling also highlights a couple of important points regarding diversity and open-mindedness. A character is called out for a racist remark, and another character comes out as homosexual. Both times, Armstrong manages to keep it organic to the story, so the book is never preachy.

Calling is an exciting, fast-paced sequel, even more action-packed than Gathering. It reads like a movie — lots of things going on, and you just want to keep turning the page. I look forward to Book 3.