Amazon.com Review
Although the protagonist of
Girl Walking Backwards is a young, more-or-less "out" lesbian, this not a lesbian novel so much as a classic, post-
Catcher in the Rye roman à clef, closely observed and skillfully written. Skye has even fewer illusions than Holden Caulfield, but she manages to be cynical without being world-weary. She signs up for volleyball at her new high school only because the girls on the team are beautiful, then shrinks from making the first move toward them: "Making friends is such a formal thing," she reflects. "It would have been so convenient if we all drank. Puking is great bonding, holding your friend's head over the toilet seat is kind of an intimate act. Puking friends come and go, though, at least that was my experience in junior high." When she catches sight of the doomed, black-clad Jessica, Skye thinks she has found a soulmate, but Jessica turns out to be a murky reflection of Skye's mother--unhappy and unstable, feeling cheated by life. To what extent Skye will be pulled down into others' trouble is the issue beneath the more pressing questions of whom she will love, and who will love her. A first novel of unusual distinction.
--Regina Marler
From Publishers Weekly
Williams confronts coming-of-age angst in this dry, often angry debut about a 16-year-old lesbian who lives in Santa Barbara, Calif., with her skittish mother, a spaced-out New Age divorcee on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Despite her parents' rocky breakup, Skye's world has managed to hang together, if precariously. She volunteers to work for Planned Parenthood because "it was the only organization that really dealt with teenagers' right to privacy." Soon she becomes infatuated with Jessica, a sullen, dark-haired girl she meets in a neighborhood cyber-cafe. The one thing Skye's mother is not receptive to is her daughter's lesbianism, and clashes are inevitable when Jessica introduces Skye to a world of raves, drugs and casual sexual encounters. When Jessica has a breakdown of her own, Skye realizes that avoiding reality has its price and begins to come to terms with the key actors in her life: her mother, who wants to "heal" her but ends up in the hospital herself; her well-intentioned but absent father, who is an independent filmmaker in L.A.; her "boyfriend" Riley; Jessica's friend Mol, an exuberant, self-titled Pagan; and Lorri, a volleyball teammate who turns out to be more than just another straitlaced jock. Williams writes in clipped, unemotional prose, underscoring the theme that innocence is hard to find but that naivete is rampant (especially among adults). Somehow in this chaotic and self-indulgent California terrain, her wounded young protagonist emerges as the most reasonable voice of all.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
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