Jerry Spinelli has written books that I’ve really liked; I thoroughly enjoyed both Stargirl and Maniac Magee. So I was looking forward to reading Eggs, Spinelli’s almost latest book. (Love, Stargirl just came out, too.) While I respect Spinelli’s writing, and while I admire that he’s willing to tackle a subject like dealing with human fragility in the face of death of a loved one, I’m not sure I liked this book all that much.

I’m not saying I disliked it, though. I think what I had was a complete non-reaction. It was neither here nor there; it was neither liked nor disliked. It just was. (Maybe that’s appropriate?)

Anyway. David, a 9 year old boy (who didn’t act like a 9 year-old in my opinion) whose mother has recently died, hates life. Hates that his grandmother is trying to make him make friends. Hates that his father is always gone to his job in Connecticut (“200 miles away!”). Hates his new town. Just hates. (It’s actually pretty grumpy reading.) Until he meets Primrose, a 13-year-old girl with family problems of her own. She is annoyed by her mom, who is, by all accounts, pretty out of it. Neither of them wants a friendship, yet they end up as friends. Neither of them wants to admit that they need the other, so they spend most of the book fighting. (There’s a lot of arguing and fighting in this book. I suppose that’s typical.) And in the end, they realize, well, that life is okay.

And that’s pretty much the whole plot. Since there wasn’t much story, I really wanted to like the characters. But I didn’t particularly like David; he was too grumpy, too mean, his emotions too raw for me. I liked Primrose better, but not by much. She also was quite mean, often teasing and provoking David for no apparent reason. I felt sorry for David’s grandmother and Primrose’s mom. The mother-figures in this book were either spineless or crazy, which bothered me. The only character I really liked was Refrigerator John; he was at least interesting, though I can’t say why. He didn’t really do anything; he was just there as a sounding board for Primrose and David. And an effective one at that.

There really isn’t much more to say about this one. I was complaining to M about David always being grumpy and mean, and she told me that “9-year-old boys are just jerks, Mom.” So, maybe it’s an accurate portrayal of a kid going through the grief process. I just wanted a more enjoyable and compelling one.