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juushikaTitle: Josie and Jack
Author: Kelly Braffet
Published: New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2005
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 241
Total Page Count: 105,681
Text Number: 306
Read Because: fan of the subgenre, recommended by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moonflowerkc, borrowed from the Corvallis library
Review: With a dead mother and a distant, unloving father, siblings Josie and Jack have only each other. They may be brilliant, beautiful, and share a fierce love, but the sanctuary of their isolation is too often penetrated by the outside world, and the siblings begin to show signs of strain. This sort of desert island paradise people by tortured and unusually intimate relationships is a favorite (and none too guilty) pleasure of mine, and Josie and Jack appeals precisely to those tastes—and knows it, going so far as to reference Flowers in the Attic, an iconic (if not particularly good) example of the trope. Initially, the siblings share a paradise of dirty debauchery, and, while the indulgence of their drunkenness and isolation is tempered by unenviable living conditions, there's a taboo, delightful romance to their relationship. The precise nature of that relationship has to be read between the lines, but the gaps between each line are a mile wide. It's dark, indulgent, and thoroughly addicting.
But the book remains aware of the trope it's engaging, and isn't content to play it straight—or, at least, to remain within the confines of indulgent isolation. The real world intervenes and the sibling's sanctuary begins to fall apart—but the true corrupting force may well be the siblings themselves. Jack is less the dashing rogue he appears, and his increasingly unreliable behavior threatens both Josie and their relationship; Josie is more and less the passive victim she appears, and ultimately she is the one to define their relationship—and herself. This isn't a wholly original interpretation, but by questioning the pleasure in its guilty pleasure, Josie and Jack manages, in a way, to have its cake and eat it too. It revels in the dark delight of its premise while questioning its sustainability and desirability, and the combination is addicting to the final page while offering something a bit more satisfying than indulgence alone, even if it doesn't attain significant depth. Braffet's voice is nearly transparent but peppered with the sort of gritty detail that brings the best and worst of the sibling's circumstances to life, and so aids both aspects of the book. The result is perfectly satisfying, and while I have some criticisms they aren't caveats: Josie and Jack offers what it promises, which is a delight to those who pick it up for that reason; it offers also something a little more complex and intelligent than that, which sustains the book just when the intrigue of its premise might begin to fade. It's neither perfect nor astounding, but it's a good read—indulgent, addictive, compelling; dark and delightfully gothic but authentically discomforting; well worth seeing through to the end. Readers intrigued by the premise won't be disappointed by what they find; I recommend it.
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
Author: Kelly Braffet
Published: New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2005
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 241
Total Page Count: 105,681
Text Number: 306
Read Because: fan of the subgenre, recommended by
moonflowerkc, borrowed from the Corvallis libraryReview: With a dead mother and a distant, unloving father, siblings Josie and Jack have only each other. They may be brilliant, beautiful, and share a fierce love, but the sanctuary of their isolation is too often penetrated by the outside world, and the siblings begin to show signs of strain. This sort of desert island paradise people by tortured and unusually intimate relationships is a favorite (and none too guilty) pleasure of mine, and Josie and Jack appeals precisely to those tastes—and knows it, going so far as to reference Flowers in the Attic, an iconic (if not particularly good) example of the trope. Initially, the siblings share a paradise of dirty debauchery, and, while the indulgence of their drunkenness and isolation is tempered by unenviable living conditions, there's a taboo, delightful romance to their relationship. The precise nature of that relationship has to be read between the lines, but the gaps between each line are a mile wide. It's dark, indulgent, and thoroughly addicting.
But the book remains aware of the trope it's engaging, and isn't content to play it straight—or, at least, to remain within the confines of indulgent isolation. The real world intervenes and the sibling's sanctuary begins to fall apart—but the true corrupting force may well be the siblings themselves. Jack is less the dashing rogue he appears, and his increasingly unreliable behavior threatens both Josie and their relationship; Josie is more and less the passive victim she appears, and ultimately she is the one to define their relationship—and herself. This isn't a wholly original interpretation, but by questioning the pleasure in its guilty pleasure, Josie and Jack manages, in a way, to have its cake and eat it too. It revels in the dark delight of its premise while questioning its sustainability and desirability, and the combination is addicting to the final page while offering something a bit more satisfying than indulgence alone, even if it doesn't attain significant depth. Braffet's voice is nearly transparent but peppered with the sort of gritty detail that brings the best and worst of the sibling's circumstances to life, and so aids both aspects of the book. The result is perfectly satisfying, and while I have some criticisms they aren't caveats: Josie and Jack offers what it promises, which is a delight to those who pick it up for that reason; it offers also something a little more complex and intelligent than that, which sustains the book just when the intrigue of its premise might begin to fade. It's neither perfect nor astounding, but it's a good read—indulgent, addictive, compelling; dark and delightfully gothic but authentically discomforting; well worth seeing through to the end. Readers intrigued by the premise won't be disappointed by what they find; I recommend it.
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
