Goodreads Review: The DUFF
Minor spoilers ahead.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I hesitated over the first few pages of The DUFF, unsure as to whether what I was reading could conceivably live up to the hype. I found those opening chapters a little overwritten and maybe kind of . . . voicey? I realize that’s not a word, but it’s the first phrase that comes to mind for me when I read something that’s sort of IN YOUR FACE. TEENAGED! Usually, this is only a problem with older writers who really don’t know how to sound genuinely adolescent and so they throw in slang and get kind of sloppy with their diction. The problem is, I never spoke like that, even as a teen (as my husband will tell you, Phoebe is, and always has been, Serious Business), and so I often find that kind of voice sort of condescending.
But Kody Keplinger, author of The DUFF was seventeen when she wrote it–so I decided to keep reading and to overlook passages like this one, no matter how they rattled me: “Wesley Rush was the most disgusting womanizing playboy to ever darken the doorstep of Hamilton High . . . but he was kind of hot. Maybe if you could put him on mute . . . and cut off his hands . . . maybe–just maybe–he’d be toelrable then. Otherwise he was a real piece of shit. Horndog shit.”
I mean, ugh. But I figured that Keplinger might be able to speak honestly about the emotional situation of high school, and so I gave The DUFF the benefit of the doubt, and kept reading.
I’m so glad I did.
I was surprised to find that The DUFF is actually a very, very dark story. Although it would seem, from the hype, to be purely a story about labels, self esteem and, ill-advised sex, it’s actually about much more than that.
Bianca Piper, the eponymous DUFF, is that rare creature in YA fiction: a working class kid in a stunningly well-realized working class home. Her father works at an electronics big box store. Her mom’s been gone for awhile. Her house is a mess, no matter how many times she refolds her laundry as a sort of calming ritual. Her relationship with her friends–a pair of gorgeous cheerleaders who have problems of their own–is sometimes strained, and she dreams about running away to New York and having the sort of privileged life that she hasn’t experienced in her small suburban town.
So when her mom files for divorce, and her sleazy ex pops into town, Bianca hops into bed with the first guy who would have her (and, wonderfully, she’s not a virgin! I mean, Holy Christ, how rare is that in YA?), we totally understand.
Luckily, sex with Wesley is not a panacea. Bianca spends most of the book avoiding conflict–the conflict of her home life, her father’s mounting alcoholism, her friends’ anger, her growing feelings toward Wesley. In less capable hands, this plot would have felt stretched-thin, but Keplinger’s story remains incredibly true to life and, therefore, engaging.
There are a few hiccups here, though. Though the prose gets better and better as we get deeper into the novel, as Keplinger finds her rhythm, there were a few odd parentheticals (twice, she weirdly ruminates over whether or not different women are, or should be, wearing pantyhose) and bizarre instances of lapsed word choice (specifically, “wangled,” twice in a dozen pages) that pulled me out of the action. And while the ending was satisfying, it was also saccharine and overly neat. Not only does Bianca get the guy despite other romantic entanglements, but alcohol issues, friend issues, and absent parent issues (in fact, two instances of absent parent issues!) all get tied up with a pretty little bow. For me, this was a shame–it was the first time in the story when I felt like it wasn’t realistic, or honest. Now keep in mind that I’m not a fan of tragedy porn endings (see my review of Mockingjay), but a little more thorniness here would have been nice.
I’m not worried, though. On Keplinger’s blog, she discusses how Judy Blume is one of her literary heroes. I can see their similarities–they both deal with issues of suburban life that are often ignored by YA writers, and often fearlessly. If Keplinger can keep Blume’s endings in mind as an appropriate model (the end of Forever . . . is, for me, much more emotionally accurate than the ending of The DUFF), she’ll be doing her own stories a great favor. I’m glad that she’s aware of the ways in which she has room to grow–because we, as her audience, can only benefit from that growth.
All in all, this is an incredible debut.
Phoebe
Phoebe is a 20-something writer who lives in New York State with her husband and cat. She is a dork, not a geek or a nerd.
Her debut novel, Starglass, will be released from Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers in Summer 2013.
9 comments
Nice review, Phoebster. (Pronounced: Foe-eb-stir; Or fast: F-Webster)
The happy ending might have been to make sure this one sells. Same for the overwritten beginning. It’s hard to break into the market. And if that sentence is the example of the worst, I’d say it’s doing pretty good, better than a lot of YA. I’ll pick it up next time I’m in the bookstore.
Yeah, I’ll admit that my preference for poetic prose (even as a teen) probably is an outlier. I think you’ll enjoy this one–especially because (bonus! which didn’t make it into the review) the steamy scenes are genuinely steamy. Her characters have great chemistry.
Also, <3 Phoebster. One of my besties in middle school called me that. ^_^
As someone who was Kody’s age not too long ago, I found the voice in her book so true to reality. I should share with you some of the lines my BFF wrote in our shared journal because we seriously talked just like that. Especially that opening line about Wesley. I honestly remember calling guys “horndogs” or man whores” so I can definitely see how today’s teenagers will really relate to The DUFF. I’m happy to hear you liked it in the end anyways
Hey Sebrina–thanks for the comment.
Well, I was sixteen a decade ago, which, while it might make me quasi ancient, sure doesn’t seem like the case. I mean, here, for the hell of it, is a snippet of my senior year journal, talking about a boy that wasn’t so different from Wesley:
“Still I Try, but I Can’t Understand. . . – 2/22/2002
Walking through the hallway, just moments after sliding my palm over your palm, I wonder, do you plan your actions every day? Do you say to yourself, today this is what I will offer her: an affectionate head-rub, an open hand, or something said, indecipherable and meaningless? Do you wonder, will I run into her today? Did you care to be back in gym class, leaving a spot on the concrete wall that smelled like your shampoo?
Or is it simply an accident, incidental, spontaneous?”
Here’s what it comes down to, for me: it’s not that I think I was universal when I was 18–I didn’t have any illusions about that, even then. But I don’t know that the teen of today being represented by what’s meant to be a universal teen voice in YA is accurate either. When it comes down to it, teenagers now, just like teenagers eight years ago, are thorny, complex, complicated–and unique. No voice can universally speak to them. Just like how YA of the day didn’t always, consistently, speak to me, I don’t think we can expect even voices like Keplinger’s to speak for everyone, either. I think that’s expecting just a bit too much.
I completely agree with you about a universal voice! I’d also have to agree that not everyone will relate to Kody’s voice in The DUFF. Growing up, I never felt like I could relate to other girls beside my best friend since we kind of had our own manner of speaking and most of the girls we were around did not get it. So when I read The DUFF and found a book that actually said things that I remember saying or hearing my friend say it felt so good to know we weren’t alone. And then to hear the positive reviews from others stating relatively the same thing was even better.
That’s where I think Kody succeeded in her mission. She wanted to show girls that we all feel a little different and duffy sometimes (I was in fact 17 when my best friend’s brother introduced us to that word and every girl we knew worried about being the DUFF) but we aren’t alone in feeling that way.
So while the voice might not be universal, I hope everyone will at least give it a chance to the end, because I believe that the message is.
i don’t think i’ve ever commented on your blog, but i read it a lot. i just wanted to say thanks for your honest reviews. they are refreshing.
Thank you, erinjade! I was just looking at your blog the other day–small world
Bianca Piper is the perfect name for a regular, working-class girl.
This comment wins.