vs.
Devon's thoughts:
Conviction by Kelly Loy Gilbert
(Spoilers. This
book offends my delicate sensibilities so I’m spoiling it in hopes no one else
reads it, even though I know that this isn’t how the book slam works)
I don’t mind books
that talk about faith; I think it is interesting to watch characters struggle
with matters of faith and the juxtaposition of what they learn at home and what
they see at school, and I think this can be very helpful for readers to see as well.
If you don’t grow up in that faith, as a reader you get to learn about it more
intimately than you would from a textbook. My greatest concern with matters of
faith in Conviction,
however, is how homosexuality is portrayed. Calling it addictive and using it
to fill other holes in your heart is offensive. Because of how many references
there were to homosexuality in the beginning, I was desperately hoping that the
major crisis would be for Braden to be gay. While I know this is an accurate
portrayal for some denominations of Christianity, I didn’t see any benefit to
adding this to the story. While it is used as a crisis point, it’s done so VERY
weakly, and the crisis could easily have had other sources.
I struggled with
how well written the novel is; the scenes of his father drinking, the abuse,
and the entire scene where Braden and Madi are at the lake… So much of this was
beautifully described. Even the discussion of baseball; it went over my head
but there was passion and fun in those sections. The structure, on the other
hand, was incredibly frustrating. There are too many problems for any character
to face – or for any writer to handle effectively. It felt as though there were
major problems raised and dropped repeatedly. The female characters exist solely
as romantic interests or mothers; they not only have no depth, but when the
men-folk do them wrong, the women justify the bad behavior. Is that realistic?
Sure, sometimes. But they’re so one-dimensional that again, I thought Braden
might be gay and that women just do not show up on his radar.
I had to re-read the ending, thinking I had missed some major development. I
still feel as though I have; out of nowhere, after repeatedly contrasting how
important it is for Braden to work through his problems and how critical
everyone is over Trey running away, the resolution is to throw down your glove
and walk away? It would be full of teen angst drama on film, but on the page it
was just confusing. There must have been a MAJOR epiphany that I missed, for him
to leave his father, school, baseball, and the church to go live with his gay
brother, who not only has room for him but also the time to raise a teenager,
write a book, and run a restaurant. And then I just kept thinking about his
home with his father standing empty for two months. Did they do the dishes
before they left? I don’t need a scene where they pack, but some resolution
would be nice.
I honestly would
not recommend this book to anyone. Ever. I was horrified by the depictions of
homosexuality. I wanted some depth to the female characters. I wanted at least
one issue resolved. I don’t feel like one satisfactory resolution is asking too
much.
Jon's
thoughts;
Conviction is a good example of a book that
emphasizes the importance of (a) being able and willing to read about other
people’s experiences without necessarily feeling like we have to adopt their
worldview, and (b) recognizing that sympathetic protagonists tend to make it
difficult for readers to do this. For the protagonist Braden, religion is the
lens through which he filters and understands the world around him. I think it
is likely that secular readers would find the worldview off-putting, but I
don’t think that is necessarily an incorrect or invalid way of experiencing the
text. Once you get past that hurdle, I found it a remarkably honest insight
into the way Christian youth attempt to make meaning of the world in which they
live. Much of this can be attributed to Gilbert’s technique—she is an excellent
writer, and that is a virtue that sometimes gets overlooked in YA in deference
to the story.
Where Conviction falls short is in its insistence on
tackling too many subplots. Braden’s relationship with his faith, his father,
his brother, baseball, the trial, his friends, and his girlfriend all exist at
times independently of each other while at other times in anastomosis. As a
result, none of them feel fully resolved by the end of the novel. Normally,
this in itself would be a valid critique of any novel. However, the coming-of-age,
bildungsroman-esq nature of the story underscores the issue of having a
sympathetic but flawed protagonist who holds problematic opinions or worldviews
at the beginning of the novel: if he doesn’t rescind those views or come to a
better understanding of his own flaws by the end, it allows room for doubt as
to whether those ideas need to be challenged at all.
Overall, I see Conviction as a text through which non-religious
readers can catch a glimpse of how a particular type of Christian youth can
struggle to understand the world through the lens of his religion. It’s not so
different from reading about young adults who struggle with their gender,
sexuality, race, or class. Even as I’ve extolled the importance of writers to
write responsibly, it is just as important (perhaps even more so) for readers
to read generously. Conviction¸ I believe, is a good exercise in that.
We both put All
the Bright Places forward as the winner.