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![]() Click for words events Fiction Review Only Children
Kids are so damn smart these days.
Henry Every, Dana Adam Shapiro's 15-year-old hero who washes ashore,
dead, on the first page of the debut novel "The Every Boy," rings
quite precocious. He keeps a journal--it's detailed, mostly about girls
or his separated parents--that could've been written by an MFA student.
He waxes poetic--"in the suburbs, nobody really knows anybody but
everyone knows who everyone else is"--in a way that would make J.D.
Salinger, or any Jonathan Safran Foer creation, proud. He has the
undesirable duty of knowing more than any other character in the book. A
demanding request, for a teenager.
After he's found mysteriously soaked and lifeless on the beach, his
father finds a journal of more than 2,000 pages that tells Henry's
tale--every thought, adolescent confusion, teenage doubt--and with the
help of countless bottles of gin, Mr. Every dives in headfirst. The
Every boy gets to ball-kick his father while boxing, hold a secret crush
on a tomboy, pull a humorous and inventive prank on a high-school bully
(the result of which ends in martyrdom after a mass murder), and fall in
love with a one-handed queen of New York, a young girl even more
precious than Henry, who eats hotdog-less hotdogs. Shapiro's most
delightful segue way comes later in his brief novel, when Henry's
one-handed obsession leads him to an underground group of amputees, who
have altered their bodies on purpose--severed legs, arms, horns
inserted into scalps and forked tongues--who title themselves the
"Pilgrims," where Henry insists he could, just maybe, belong.
Shapiro, a former editor at Spin and co-director of "Murderball,"
the award-winning documentary about paraplegic rugby players, gives his
characters--all-aching, alone and regretful--sentiment as a savior at
book's end, and when Henry's death is explained, the circular nature of
the story only spins more circles. Henry's father, depressed and
depressing to a nearly unspeakable degree, immerses himself in the world
of brainless, venomous jellyfish, which he believes he can tame. While
Shapiro's chaotic and quirky subplots amaze, one can't help but wish
they were pushed to the front lines, and his Every boy, which we all may
be, would act his age. The Every Boy
By Dana Adam Shapiro
Houghton Mifflin, $19.95, 224 pages
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