Two-time Edgar Award winner Nancy Springer has written a chilling psychological thriller about a teenage girl possessed by her dead brother. Quiet, cautious Jessie had always lived in the shadow of her dynamic younger brother--her mother's clear favorite. His recent death leaves Jessie and her mother numb with grief. That is, until the morning Jessie cuts her hair and dresses in Jason's clothes, swaggering out of the house in an uncanny imitation of her brother. Her mother is visibly cheered, and for once Jessie is the center of attention at school. But each day Jason takes over Jessie more and more. Can she escape his power? Fast-paced, accessible, and truly creepy, this novel will have readers on the edge of their seats.
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Editorial Reviews
From School Library Journal
Gr 7-10–Jessie is grief-stricken after her brother's death. Her mother has become unresponsive, refusing to eat, and has not spoken to Jessie since the accident. All her life, the teen has failed to win her mother's attention and now she has an idea. Become Jason, dressing in his clothes, adopting his speech patterns and strut. At first it is difficult but as time goes by, it becomes easier especially since her mother is finally talking and paying attention to her. The more Jessie pretends, the more Jason's persona comes forth, until finally she has no choice. Jason, the more dominate sibling, is trying to reclaim his life. The ending is abrupt, leaving readers with an eerie, creepy feeling. Springer has written a twisted story, and while characterization is weak and the story line can be frustrating for those readers who need resolution, this tightly woven novel is fast-paced and will be of interest to readers who like light horror.Sharon Morrison, Henry G. Bennett Memorial Library, Durant, OK
© Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
© Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
From Booklist
Jessie feels guilty for the car crash that killed her popular younger brother, Josh. Partly out of grief, and partly to force her mother to communicate with her, Jessie begins to wear Josh’s clothes, carry his backpack, and talk like him. The more she behaves like him, the more Jessie takes on her brother’s persona. Eventually, pretending to be Josh is no longer a matter of choice, as Jessie discovers her brother is trying to take back his life. The only person who recognizes that things are spiraling out of control is Jessie’s friend Alisha. Unfortunately, her halfhearted attempt to contact the siblings’ long-absent father for help ends unsuccessfully, a turn of events that may leave readers frustrated. Jessie’s initial motivation, to imitate her brother, is believable and understandable, and the premise of this slim volume immediately hooks readers, reluctant or otherwise. However, readers looking for a thrilling page-turner about possession will likely be disappointed, especially with the abrupt ending. Grades 7-10. --Shauna Yusko
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More About the Author
"Conform, go crazy, or become an artist." I have a rubber stamp declaring those words, and they pretty much delineate my life. Conforming was the thing to do when I was raised, in the fifties. Even my mother, who spent her days painting animal portraits at an easel in the corner of the kitchen, tried to conform via housecleaning, bridge parties, and a new outfit every spring. My father, who was born into a British-mannered Protestant family in southern Ireland, emigrated to America as a young man and idolized the "melting pot" because at last he fit in. Once in a rare while he recited "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" or told a tale of a leprechaun, but most of the time he was an earnest naturalized American who expected exemplary behavior of his children. My mother was a charming Pollyanna who would not entertain negative sentiments in herself or anyone around her. As their only girl and the baby of the family, I was coddled, yet hardly ever got a chance to be other than excruciatingly good.
My "conform" phase lasted right into adulthood. When I was thirteen, my parents bought a small motel near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and I spent most of my teen years helping them make beds and clean rooms. I did not date until I went to college -- Gettysburg College, all of seven miles from home. it was the height of the sixties, and I grew my hair long, but eschewed pot, protests, and "happenings." Instead, I married a preacher's son who was himself conforming by studying for the ministry. Within a few years I was Rev. Springer's wife, complete with offspringers, living in a country parsonage in southern York County, PA.
Here beginneth the "go crazy" phase.
Because I had never been allowed any negative emotions, I began to hear "voices" in my head. First they whispered "divorce" (not permissible), and later they hissed "suicide". They scared me silly. I couldn't sleep; images of knives and torture floated in front of my eyes even during the daytime; something roared like an animal inside my ears; my wrists hurt; I saw blood seeping out of the walls; panic jolted me like a cattle goad out of nowhere. Is it necessary to add that I was clinically depressed? The doctor gave me Valium and sent me to a shrink. The shrink took me off the Valium and told me I had a problem with anger. (No duh.) The next doctor zombied me on the numbing antidepressants which were available at that time. The next shrink said I had an adjustment problem. And so on, for several years, during which I somehow managed to stay alive, take care of my kids, handle the vagaries of my husband, sew clothing and grow vegetables to get by financially, cook, can preserves, show up at church, do mounds of laundry and publish "The White Hart" and "The Silver Sun"--yet not one of the doctors of shrinks ever suggested that I might be a strong person, let alone a writer. All of them were intent on "helping" poor little me "adjust" to being a housewife, mother, and pastor's wife.
Eventually I became resigned to the fact (as I perceived it) that I was an evil, sinful person with horrible things going on inside my head, and I stopped trying to fix me. I stopped going to doctors or therapists. Somehow I found courage--or desperation--to stop trying to conform or adjust or live a role.
"I am going to start taking an hour or two first thing in the morning to do my writing," I said to my husband.
"Fine," he said. He had reached the point where he would agree with whatever to humor the neurotic wife; to him it was just another of my brain farts. But to me it was the most important sentence I ever spoke. With that statement I stopped being a housewife who sometimes stole time to write, and I started being a writer.
Conform, go crazy--or become an artist.
By becoming a writer--by becoming who I truly was--I became well.
It was so simple. Although it did take years, of course; it takes a long time for good things to grow. Trees. Books. Me. Odd thing about books; they not only nourish growth but show it happening. In "The Black Beast, The Golden Swan" and many other of my early novels, you can see me dealing with the yang/yin nature of good and evil, struggling to accept my own shadow. In "Chains of Gold" and "The Hex Witch of Seldom" I start writing as a woman, no longer identifying only with male main characters. In a number of children's books I come to terms with my own childhood. And in "Apocalypse"--whoa, what a fierce, dark fantasy novel, the first thing I wrote after my income from writing enabled my husband to leave the ministry. I hadn't thought of myself as repressed when I was a pastor's wife, but obviously something broke loose when I shed that role. "Larque on the Wing"--whoa again, another breakthrough book that spiraled straight out of my muddled middle-aged psyche and took me places I'd never dreamed were in me.
It's been a long time since those days when I thought I was an evil person. I know better now, and I love and trust me even to the extent of writing "Fair Peril"--a more perilous novel than I knew at the time, interfacing all too closely with my life. Written two years before the fact, it foresees my husband's infidelity and my divorce. The most painful irony I've ever faced is that once I gained my selfhood, I lost my lifelong partner. He had supported me through episodes that would have sent most men screaming and running, but once I became well and strong, he transferred his loyalty to a skinny, neurotic waif all to similar to the young woman I once was. After supporting him through twenty-seven years of stinky socks, automotive yearnings, miscellaneous foibles, and the career change that put him where she could cry on his shoulder, I found this a bit hard to take. But I wouldn't go back to being Ms. Pitiful. Not for anything.
Now married to a rather remarkable second husband, after living 46 years in Pennsylvania I moved in 2007 to the Florida panhandle, where I spent a year living in a small apartment above the aforementioned husband's hangar in an exceedingly rural (swamps, egrets, snakes and alligators) airport. Now we have a real house about a mile from the airport on higher ground featuring tremendously tall longleaf pine trees with rattlesnakes and scorpions underneath them. Life is an adventure and I mean that sincerely.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Seriously creepy,
By
This review is from: Possessing Jessie (Hardcover)
I believe this book is targeted towards reluctant high school age readers; definitely not a group that includes me. Having said that, I still found this book enjoyable in a creepy sort of way, and think that it will have great appeal for it's target group. I found some things incredibly frustrating. I felt at the beginning like I was being dropped into the middle of a story. I wasn't sure of Jessie's motivations and found her behavior very disturbing. There's not a lot of character development here and the story is told in a "bare bones" manner that some will find odd. It's a very fast read and a very simple story - perfect to entice any middle or high school student who normally won't pick up a more involved tale.
Ultimately, I think the author did a good job here. The story ended in a sort of "Twilight Zone" finish that gave me a chill. A solid recommend for reluctant readers with a taste for the supernatural.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
For Reluctant Young Adult Readers...,
This review is from: Possessing Jessie (Hardcover)
Listed on the back cover of this book, there is a list of awards. The first is from the ALA (American Library Association) as their Quick Pick for Reluctant Young Adult Readers. Though it says 128 pages in the description above, mine has 88. In other words, it's not a chunky book to struggle through.
The story begins with Jesse morning the loss of her brother, Jason. Her parents are divorced and they lived with their mother. Jason was Mom's favorite. Jesse feels she is to blame for what happened, that she should have stopped her brother from going around the dangerous curb that ended his life. To deal, she cuts her hair and dresses in his clothes. When her mother responds positively to this new change in her, she continues, even though her classmates and the school staff are telling her to stop. The story turns sinister and there won't be a happily-ever after ending, which was a total shocker for me. I liked that and there's a message I'm hoping all girls will pick up on. The only reason I didn't give this a five star--it was after all, a serious page-turner for me. Once I started, I didn't want to stop. Anyway, the reason was in the tiny details. For example, when Jason was in his car speeding and Jesse reached over and turned off the engine and took the key out. It's been a long time since I've driven a standard, but can you do that? Without putting it in gear? That detail bothered me for days. Okay, let's say you can and move on. There's more. The insurance from the accident, it was enough to pay for that brand new hot-rod of a mustang? And what about the Mom's income? She couldn't work. How were they making it? These small details ate away at the story. Even with these petty complaints, I highly recommend this one. I also think readers who aren't reluctant will enjoy this story. It written in a power voice. I look forward to reading more books by Nancy Springer.
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