Every You, Every Me

Pas le meilleur livre de David Levithan, très dur à suivre par moments même si on comprends la volonté de montrer toute la lutte à l'intérieur de l'esprit du narrateur. Reste que le mystère au coeur de l'histoire fait qu'on accroche quand même au livre et qu'on ne peut s'empêcher de vouloir aller jusqu'au bout. Et que la fin est très bien gérée !

I thought this was a great premise and I like David Levithan but I never connected with this book. The photographs didn't add anything for me, to be honest. I also found the ending unsatisfying.

Here's something I don't experience very often. A very well-written, tragic tale that I'm somehow just not that into. Thus the three stars. It doesn't deserve less, but I wasn't mental enough to give it more.

And it is well-written, almost poetic at times. It's essentially a tale narrated by a boy named Evan who seems to have done something terrible to his best friend Ariel, with whom he's also a bit in love, and now she's gone. As you read, you learn that Ariel was mentally ill. Evan is starting to become a bit mentally ill, because he's haunted by guilt and the loss of her. And then he starts getting random photos of things only he and Ariel shared, of Ariel, of himself. And her boyfriend Jack starts getting them too. Whereas Jack wants to get on with life, Evan cannot, he's so tortured.

Some of the side characters are not very well fleshed-out. They seemed almost tacked on. But Evan and Jack–especially Evan, since everything is from his p.o.v.–are more fleshed out. And Evan is handled with sensitivity. He's tragic. He has conflicting thoughts. He's tortured.

The mystery isn't what drives this tale, it's the emotional breakdown of Evan, and Jack, by proxy. The end is a bit silly, a bit of a let-down to me, especially because it concludes about one page after the reader is given a red herring. There are also strike-outs. As in, Evan narrates what are essentially his deepest thoughts, his most emotionally painful thoughts, and then they are struck out. There are paragraphs and lines upon lines of strike-outs. I understand the motif, but it got far too distracting for me.

I might be showing my age, though.

I also must quibble with Dana. She's dreadful and should be seeking therapy too, by the end of the book. She just waltzes off into the sunset, though. I do appreciate that this book tackles that topic though, since it's taboo; since mental illness is treated NOT as an illness, but as a choice. And that is absolute crap. So I wish I could give it more stars, but I can't.