“Great, I’ll take your silence as a yes, which by the way is what everyone else will do, too. As long as you never open your mouth and tell other people how to treat you, they’re going to treat you however they please, maybe even quite badly, and they’ll take your silence as permission to do so.”
Kids are mean. Those three words repeatedly bounced around my head as I read Looks. And all I can think having finished it is:
Fuck you, Cara Roy, you manipulative plagiarizing bitch.
Fuck you, Jamie “J-Bar” Bartlett, for believing you can drop “faggot” like you’re hot.
And fuck you, Becky Trainer, for never learning how to speak without an interrogative tone.
You made me feel a lot of feelings, George, so thank you. I was worried at the beginning of the book that English class would not be a safe zone and the English teacher not a wise ally–my favourite tropes of the high school novel (please see Stephen Chbosky’s Perks of Being a Wallflower)–but you were just complicating the form. Just because school lit mags are beautiful things, doesn’t mean that everyone involved in the collective is a beautiful person (I’m looking at you, Cara). But maybe that comment shouldn’t have been parenthetical because, Cara, I need to talk about you for a second. I hate you Miss Roy, but I feel so, so much pity for you because you’ve convinced yourself of many beautiful lies and you’ve had too much pressure placed on you.
Sorry for ignoring you, reader, but this comment’s for you: If you’re searching for a fresh way to look (I’m trying for a pun here, but I’m not sure if it’s working. I could take it out, but this is just a blog of my thoughts–it doesn’t have to be perfect. Please provide your feedback in the comments below. kthnxbai.) at the high school archetypes of bullies and victims, I recommend this novel.