School Library Journal Review
Gr 8 Up-The small coastal town of Neptune, NJ, is thrown for a loop when flamboyant and flashy Leonard, 14, arrives to live with the Hertle family. His cousin Phoebe, 15, resents his inclusion and watches with annoyance as he proceeds to join the high school drama crowd and give her mother's beauty parlor clients makeovers of body and mind. When Leonard goes missing, Phoebe begins to realize that she had not been able to see beyond his six-inch platform sneakers; his love for others and his desire to be loved in return touched the people of Neptune more deeply than anyone had expected. As she struggles to make sense of his disappearance, she leans on Travis, her wrong-side-of-the-tracks boyfriend who had at an earlier time accosted Leonard. This novel touches on myriad sensitive topics, including incest, shoplifting, wounded veterans, abandonment, sexual identity, and hate crimes, giving the book something of a crowded feel. Still, the frank tone of Phoebe's narration and the tragedy of Leonard's abbreviated life will give readers plenty to ponder.-Nora G. Murphy, Los Angeles Academy Middle School (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
Lecesne, the Academy Award-winning writer of the film short Trevor, turns out a stunner of a first novel, using a deliberately leisurely pace to develop a careful view of a smalltown New Jersey community-and then shattering it. Phoebe, the ruminative 15-year-old narrator, is appalled when the orphaned son of her uncle's ex-girlfriend moves in with her fatherless family: it's not just that 13-year-old Leonard shows up in pink-and-green plaid capris, a midriff-baring T-shirt, platform sandals and pierced ears-"I like different. I am different," Phoebe explains to readers-but "something about him seemed to invite ridicule. Like he was saying, go on, I dare you, say something." Soon Leonard wins over Phoebe's mother, who operates a hair salon, and her clients, as he prescribes exactly what they need to release their inner beauty. But before these characters harden into types, the mood blackens, not unexpectedly but nevertheless horrifyingly. Lecesne is an artist with small details, using them liberally both to heighten his characters' world and to plant material whose significance emerges only much later. A somewhat didactic ending does not dim this book's pleasures nor flatten its complexities; readers are still left to wrangle with ambiguities and unmeasured depths. Ages 12-up. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Horn Book Review
Phoebe's cousin Leonard sports rainbow sneakers and offers makeover tips at Phoebe's mom's salon. Not everyone appreciates Leonard's individuality; he's bullied by a local thug and one day disappears. Characters rich with personality at the beginning are, in the end, overwhelmed by the book's too many big messages. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Review
Arriving on the Jersey shore, flamboyant Leonard Pelkey stomps into Phoebe's life on platform sneakers and complicates her disconnected family relationships. Befriended by blue-haired old ladies, Leonard's makeover enthusiasm garners him both friends and enemies. When Leonard's body is recovered after his sudden disappearance, Phoebe and her family must address their conflicted feelings about Leonard's murder and his absence in their lives. Armchair detectives, the Iraq war and sexual molestation all crowd their way onto the pages of this meandering narrative. Leonard's enthusiastic personality, though reminiscent of the fabulous Billy Bloom from James St. James's Freak Show (2007), never forges a similar emotional connection with readers and leaves them feeling exhausted. Electra's expositional 11th-hour speech concerning the nature of good and evil is a drastic departure for the character, and seems more pontificating than heartfelt. As a character and narrator, Phoebe's self-involved nature makes her entirely forgettable, and her improbable relationship with Travis, Leonard's killer, is another cheap manipulation. Lecesne's work on the Trevor helpline serves as a beacon of hope, but this bloated narrative clouds the issue of homophobia and teen sexuality. (Fiction. YA) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Absolute Brightness Chapter One I was stalled in aisle 7 of our local supermarket, musing over the selection of potato chips and saying something like, "But really, don't you think thirty-seven different types of chips is a ridiculous number to choose from? I mean, how did we end up living in a country that makes a big deal over everything squeaky-clean and then at the same time makes you pay extra for chips called 'dirty'?" As usual, Mom hadn't heard a word I'd said. Instead, she was standing in the middle of the aisle, smiling at nothing in particular and referring to her shopping list as if it were about to tell her something about her life that she didn't already know. My sister, Deirdre, was hanging the top half of her body over the shopping cart, letting her long, luxurious chestnut-colored hair touch the unpaid-for produce. She couldn't hear me even if she'd been so inclined; she was plugged into her iPod and humming along. If you happened to be passing by, you might have assumed that Deirdre was just some girl about to be sick into the cart, or you might have mistaken her humming for the kind of low moaning that is popular with television actors starring in telenovelas when they've just been fatally shot. Deirdre has always been considered the great beauty in our family, so I made a point of keeping a certain distance from her. Someone might be forced to compare us, and I would only come up short. Literally. Deirdre is a full four inches taller than I am. Deirdre has always been the tall beautiful one. I was . . . well, I was Phoebe. I've also avoided lingering too long over her physical features, like her delicate bone structure, her glittery green eyes or the aforementioned full-bodied head of gorgeous, chestnut-colored hair. Compare and despair. It's true that I've never tried that hard in the beauty department. What's the point? That's Deirdre's territory. It was as if Deirdre had used up all the genetic coding in our family for beauty, and I got whatever was left over, the dregs. Everyone was always looking at her, admiring her, telling her how beautiful she looked, how perfect her outfit was, and asking where she got her shoes. From top to bottom she was Neptune's "it" girl. I was the also-ran. It's lucky I loved Deirdre as much as I did; otherwise I would have hated her guts. It's not that I'm bad-looking. But my arms and legs have always been a bit too square, my hips are wide and I have a butt. I like my breasts. Once I got over the embarrassment of actually having breasts, I discovered that they gave me power over the boys at school when I wore a certain kind of top. My face is fine, but maybe it's a bit too flat and round to be considered anything other than just cute. Personally, I think my brown eyes are a little too far apart and they don't sparkle nearly as much as I would like, but I can see the world well enough with them, so I guess I shouldn't complain. I dye my hair; I always have. It's my signature thing, my way to keep from being overlooked or forgotten altogether. As my mother has always reminded us girls, "Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but for god's sakes give 'em something worth beholding." Mom poked Deirdre in the ribs and told her to stand up straight and take her earbuds out. Mom had an announcement to make. And then without any fanfare whatsoever, in the middle of aisle 7, she told us that our cousin Leonard would be coming to live with us. "And soon," she added. "I mean, this Saturday." "I didn't know we had a cousin," was the first thing out of my mouth. Now normally, I don't like to hang out near the frozen foods. You can freeze your legs off if you linger too long in shorts by the Tater Tots and TV dinners. But we were stuck. Mom had decided that this was the time and place to tell us exactly who Leonard Pelkey was and why he would soon be living under our roof. By the time she had finished, my teeth were chattering and my fingertips had gone numb. Apparently, Leonard was the son of Janet Somebody from Phoenix who had been getting beaten up pretty regularly by her husband. Finally, she ran off with baby Leonard and tried to piece together a life. Years later, when Leonard was about eleven, Janet met my mother's brother, Mike, in a bar. After noticing that he had a job, she started living with Mike in a low-rise apartment complex with a Spanish-inspired motif until she died of breast cancer the following year, which forced my uncle Mike to become Leonard's legal guardian. But Mike wasn't much of a father figure. He finally broke down, called my mother and cried long distance. He admitted that he couldn't handle the responsibility of raising a kid on his own. Mom asked him why this was the first she'd heard from him in two years. Uncle Mike explained that he had been traveling back and forth to Mexico and working on a scheme to raise some kind of cattle, which would later be sold for a ton of money. He wanted to know if Leonard could live with us--just until his cattle began to pay off. After Mom finished telling us the story of Leonard, we made our way to the checkout, where Mrs. Toucci rang us up. Mrs. T. took the opportunity to badger Mom; she wanted one of Mom's prime Saturday-morning appointment slots because, she said, she was going to a wedding in Atlantic City. Mom stood firm and explained to Mrs. T. that her beauty salon was not a fly-by-night joint, and her Saturday slots were sacrosanct. Absolute Brightness . Copyright © by James Lecesne. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Absolute Brightness by James Lecesne All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
