From School Library Journal
Grade 5-8–The front copy promises "fits of uncontrollable laughter," but this chick-lit entry fails to deliver. Moving from California to Philadelphia and entering seventh grade in a new school, Raisin deplores the results of her mother's marriage to "Horse Ass," or Horace. She admires people for their looks and clothes, fails to appreciate her only acquaintance as a patient prince of a guy, and generally displays every obnoxious middle school characteristic imaginable. Recounting events through the blog to her buddies back home in Berkeley, Raisin details every embarrassing and thoughtless idea she has ever had, specializing in a long description of her travails on the arrival of her first period. This is actually the best part of the book, and updates "that Margaret person" whom Raisin thinks was nuts to actually look forward to this event. The inevitable denouement when everyone reads her entire blog is not surprising; nor is the fact that Raisin learns very little from the whole experience. There are better, funnier, and more realistic tales about adjusting to a new life after a parent's divorce. Shallow, very shallow.–Carol A. Edwards, Douglas County Libraries, Castle Rock, CO
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Gr. 6-9. Lost and lonely when she moves in with her stepfather's family in Philadelphia, Raisin Rodriguez, 13, talks on her blog to her two best friends back in Berkeley, California. Her daily, sometimes hourly, narrative is frank, needy, hilarious, intimate, and crude. On one level it's the usual diary about the new kid trying to fit in with the cool group. But Raisin, who admits she's way beyond Judy Blume, also writes about examining her intimate body parts, comparing what she sees with the wrinkled "face of Mervis the librarian." There's also the teacher who looks as if he has "pubic hair coming out of his ears." When she forgets to log out at school, someone prints her blog for all to read. Blogs tend to be ephemeral, but what will last here is the close-up of peer cruelty, personal intimacy, and public embarrassment. Raisin can't help wondering if the word embarrassment
comes from the root words bare
. Hazel RochmanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved