The Shell House, Linda Newbery

My second try with Linda Newbery.  I really want to love her!  The covers of her book are always so appealing!  This one had bits that were set in Chelmsford, and I lived in Essex for nine months!  But still, the only strong reaction I had to her books – like last time – was, Jesus God, I’m so glad I’m not raising children in England.  British schoolchildren are awful.  They are awful.  My flatmates thought I was from the scary ghetto because I have sketchy neighbors and got mugged one time; this in spite of the fact that they got the shit beaten out of them by their classmates in school.  I love England like a fat kid loves cake, but I could never ever raise kids there, ever.  Ever.  BECAUSE THEY WOULD DIE.

The Shell House is actually not about awful British schoolchildren.  Sisterland had much more awful British schoolchildren.  The Shell House is about a boy who is struggling with his sexuality, and a girl who is struggling with her faith, and a back-in-the-day World War I guy who’s struggling with both.  It had bits that were good, but there were also bits that were just blah.  Faith (the girl who’s um, struggling with her – I don’t know why I bothered with this sentence) isn’t terribly likeable, ever, and the two plots don’t come together very neatly either.  They’re thematically linked, but they aren’t juxtaposed in an interesting way, and Edmund himself, the World War I guy, wasn’t that interesting, or fleshed-out.  I felt sort of gipped on the Edmund front.

Okay.  I have Linda Newbery’s Set in Stone out of the library too.  If I don’t like that, I’m just giving her up forever as Not My Thing.  I wouldn’t be being so persistent if the covers weren’t so nice!