
I'd mentioned in a previous blog entry how I love those end-of-the-year lists, especially the lists of best books. I noticed when looking through the entries for this year's best teen books, one title kept showing up:
Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork. Feeling like I was missing out, I read Marcelo. And when I was done, I knew if I had written a list of the best teen books published in 2009, I wouldn't have included this book.
The novel is narrated by the title character: Marcelo Sandoval, a 17-year-old functioning on the high end of the autistic spectrum. Marcelo has always attended a special school for students with cognitive disorders, and that's where he'd like to finish out his high school career. But his father, a high-powered attorney, has other plans. He wants Marcelo to work in his office's mail room for the summer in order to experience the "real world." If Marcelo is successful in the mail room, he can attend the school he's used to for his senior year. Otherwise, his father will put him in the public high school.
Marcelo narrates the story, so we get to know him well. The subject that most interests Marcelo is religion, and he has a close relationship with a female rabbi, who happens to be his mother's best friend. He is also very fond of working with the horses at his school and he really enjoys music. Marcelo has always heard what he calls internal music. It's hard for him to describe, impossible for him to reproduce, but it's beautiful.
Instead of working with horses, the summer job he'd always dreamed of, Marcelo is pushed into the mail room of his father's cut-throat law firm. He's forced into all kinds of situations that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable for him. He has to interact with people he doesn't know or quite understand. He has to walk and take trains and buses in the city to get places he's never been before. And he learns a lot--about himself and his father's real world.
I didn't hate this book--not at all. But I didn't love it, either. There's a lot of Marcelo talking in this book--to the rabbi, to Juliet in the mail room, to his mom, to himself. Talking and more talking. After a while, I'd had enough. But I'm definitely in the minority. So someone else read this book and explain its appeal. Or better yet, let me know I'm not the only one in the universe who didn't absolutely adore this book.