Sunday, May 8, 2011
This Girl is Different
But, let's hold on for a sec. What we have here is a clear case of a guy asking a girl if she needs help. Scandalous. Outrageous. How DARE he?! The nerve!
Moving on. Evie eventually acquiesces to his repeated offers of help, but only under the condition that she not be a "damsel in distress" and that he not actually help her. She's helping herself. Guys aren't allowed to help girls. It's demeaning. She makes it back, having been not-rescued by the boy, Rajas.
I believe I digress. Taking a break from the borderline-offensive feminism, Evie turns her critical eye to Rajas' car, a gas-guzzling old-timer, as she explains how her house is an economically- and environmentally-efficient geodesic dome that doubles as a farm and home to their 700,021 cats.
For some reason, I can't think of a unifying theme or a flow to this review. I wonder why...? Oddness. Anyways, Evie's decided to try out "the Institution of School" (High school), because, of course, she's been homeschooled for all her life.
So, of course, she goes to school, and instead of being even relatively normal (it's not that difficult. Seriously.) she alienates everyone and is only popular because she's BFFLs with the popular girl mentioned before. Meanwhile, she starts dating the popular girl's hot brother, the one who saved her, the one she studiously disliked until she realized he was attractive and liked her. Honestly, if you're going to do feminism, do it right. She can't just dissolve into a blubbering heap that slimes after his footsteps. *cough* Twilight.
Meanwhile, there's a student-teacher relationship that's explored in disgusting detail and a feel-good student revolution that evokes Easy A and Mean Girls, but not in a good or original way.
Writing style is crisp but simple and uncreative. Plot is retch-worthy at points, and this book is just barely entertaining. 2.5, or a slightly moldy lemon tart that seems to be trying to drown you in sugar while slapping you awake with rancid bitterness.