justice

Audiobook: Rainbow Black

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by Maggie Thrash
Read by Hope Newhouse
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Or listen at Libro.fm
Content: There is a lot of swearing, including multiple f-bombs, frank talk of sex, and descriptions of a murder scene. It’s in the Mystery section of the bookstore (for a lack of a better place to put it.)

Lacey Bond had an idyllic childhood, out in the New Hampshire woods with her hippie parents who ran a daycare. But then, when she was 13, her parents were arrested on 30 counts of pedophilia, with the townspeople – and more importantly, therapists and prosecutors – accusing them of witchcraft and Satanism, and doing Unspeakable Things with the children. These children also said that Lacey was there, was forced to be a part of it, which Lacey knows she wasn’t. Except, none of the adults believe her. And then, when her older sister, Eclair, is brutally murdered in their house, Lacey is thrown into the system. She does have a friend – Dylan (I hope that’s spelled right!) – who is trans, and who is taken away to live with her abusive biological father and creepy older brothers. Lacey becomes panicked – she has endured a LOT of trauma – and ends up making a decision that puts Lacey and Dylan on the run to Canada.

Fourteen years later, this all comes back to haunt them as they are trying to move past their traumatic childhood and create a decent life for themselves.

It’s a weird book – excellently read by Newhouse – not quite horror, though there is a lot of talk of Satanic Panic and Lacey is often in situations that could be called horrific – not quite a mystery, mostly because there’s no mystery about who is doing these things. I think, in the end, it’s a condemning look at what happens to a kid who – through no fault of their own – gets caught in the system. Of the adults trying to manipulate and coerce the kids to their ends. The adults who weren’t able or just didn’t help out as much as they could. And of the adults who just don’t believe the things the kids say, if they don’t line up with the story they want or need. Also taking a hard look at the consequences when kids take their lives into their own hands. It’s harrowing and sad, though Thrash injects humor along the way.

I don’t think I liked this one in the traditional sense, but I did find it compelling – especially on audio – and it did give me a lot to think about.

Moonrise

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by Sarah Crossan
First sentence: “The green phone on the wall in the hall hardly ever rang.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: There’s swearing, including multiple f-bombs, and some off-screen sex. It’s in the teen section (grades 9+) of the bookstore.

Ten years ago, Joe’s older brother, Ed, was imprisoned and sentenced for killing a cop. He says he didn’t do it, but that hasn’t made any difference, since they can’t really afford a good lawyer. Or one at all, really. And now Ed’s time is up, and an execution date has been set. And he wants Joe, who’s 17, to come to Texas and be with him as he faces his execution. Since Joe (and their older sister) is really all Ed’s got.

This is heartbreaking. Seriously. It’s easy to forget with Black Lives Matter (which is important!) that the problem with the U.S. justice system isn’t just race, it’s also money. Crossan picks a poor white family as her characters, one that scrapes by barely making ends meet. A mom who is plagued by drugs and alcohol, kids who aren’t the brightest in school. And it didn’t take much for the cops to intimidate and bully Ed into a “confession” which held up in a jury. It’s heartbreaking.  And the take away? If you’re poor, you’re going to end up in prison.

That said, this isn’t a book about the justice system, though that’s a part of it. It’s about forgiveness and family and decisions and choices. And it’s packs a punch. Written in verse, it’s spare but that spareness works to Crossan’s advantage in the book. There’s nothing extra in here that needs to be cut out; it’s straightforward, but told with a lot of heart.

Excellent.

(As an aside: I met her at Children’s Institute, and she’s hilarious. She also has the Irish storytelling genes, keeping us all spellbound with her stories.)