YA or STFU

What I Saw and How I Lied, by Judy Blundell

Blundell, Judy (2008). What I Saw and How I Lied. NY: Scholastic. 284 pages.

So I’m probably the last person in the world to read Judy Blundell’s National Book Award winning What I Saw and How I Lied, but I’m not concerned with keeping up. Before I get to the review, here’s a little dirt (easily found): Judy Blundell is probably most widely known by her pseudonym, “Jude Watson,” the name associated with the Star Wars “Queen Amidala Diaries” series issued by Scholastic. How weird is that? I have to admit to being guilty of disregarding the authors of manufactured series like the aforementioned “QA Diaries” and never imagined the likes of a, for example, Melinda Metz (author of many a “New Adventures of Mary Kate and Ashley”) winning an award as prestigious as the National Book Award. As a series fiction apologist, color me particularly contrite.

Anyway, here’s the lowdown on What I Saw: Following her stepfather Joe’s return from the war (WWII) and a series of mysterious phone calls, sixteen-year-old Evie is eager to accompany him and her mother on a spontaneous vacation to Palm Beach. Arriving in the off-season, the family stays at a crumbling resort where Evie’s parents befriend a married couple–the Graysons–and a young man named Peter, an Army buddy of Joe’s, insinuates himself with the party. As the only young person in their expanding group, Evie observes the evolution of what will become an ill-fated business partnership between Joe and Mr. Grayson, as well as a growing tension between her mother, Joe, and Peter. Left to their own devices, Evie and her mother spend afternoons with Peter and Evie begins to develop feelings for this good-looking stranger.

The sort of wise-beyond-her-years narrative attributed to Evie contributes to the foreboding Joyce Carol Oates tone of this novel. This, plus the title, pretty much broadcast the tragedy that eventually strikes the characters in Blundell’s novel. While the last fourth of the novel is given to describing Evie’s family’s crumble in the face of said tragedy, I think my favorite parts of the book fell during the first three-fourths of the book, when doom was on the horizon and all the lush description was rendered almost uncanny.

The big question, of course, is whether this book is “worthy” of the National Book Award. Given that I haven’t yet read any of the finalists for this year’s award, I can’t really say. Blundell’s novel does adhere to the “coming of age” tradition in adolescent fiction and describes what is arguably a unique circumstance with uncommonly effective mood. That said, I found the novel’s ultimate conceit–the tragedy and Evie’s family’s part in it–a bit cliche, from the question of guilt to Evie’s attempt at reconciliation. Anyone else feel similarly? Or am I just turning into a curmudgeon?