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37 of 42 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Heavy-handed with a dash of "been there, done that", December 19, 2001
After I finished "The Onion Girl" last night, I sat there feeling vaguely dissatisfied and tried to figure out why. I think it all comes down to what some other reviewers have pointed out: we've seen this before - numerous times and handled better than this.DeLint's earlier books had a sense of wonder and delicacy both in his writing and in his portrayals of characters and Dreamlands/Otherlands. As you read, it felt as if the magical place he was talking about was not only real but that it could be fragile as well; it *was* real but only as long as you believed and DeLint was very good at making us believe. With this book, however, I didn't feel drawn in - more like bludgeoned. It reads along the lines of "You will believe in Newford and in the Dreamlands because I say so." Characters in this book are not there so much to show as to tell which tends to rob the book of much of its possible emotion. We're told how wonderful Jilly is, we're told how much her friends are frightened for her or pulling for her to get better, but we're never shown it. We're surrounded by all these people who have supposedly pulled themselves up by their bootstraps or dealt with hard things in life but everyone reads the same regardless of their prior experiences. Wendy, positioned as a character with a normal (read: non-abusive) childhood, comes across no differently than Jilly or Sophie. We're told she has a hard time relating to the childhood Jilly experienced but it comes across like a line in a script read by an extremely poor actress. There is nothing to back up what we're being told to feel. Everyone is the same flat character with different names. Raylene's "transformation" rings hollow. Her motivation in this story has essentially been payback. She's face to face with the person, has the means and the method, and she suddenly decides not to? And in such a way that intimates some noble self-sacrifice when, all through the book, we're given example after example about how she's out for what she can get for herself? There is nothing that points to this completely unbelievable change of heart except perhaps DeLint wanted a happy (or happier) ending after "Forests of the Heart". The Newford books seem to be becoming more about DeLint's personal likes/dislikes/agenda than him setting the characters down and letting them tell the story. We're treated to page after page of a character or characters wandering around in Native American or Celtic myths/stories/dreamlands and these scenes read as a too-long "Let me show all the things I know about this culture" rather than as vital to the story. In addition, although normally I like seeing the little snippets regarding music and musicians in his book, there is one paragraph regarding a band that comes in completely from left field and seems designed simply to advertise friends of DeLint's and nothing more. Overall, I felt the book fell flat on its face with its themes. What could have been an exploration of the meaning of family, how/if the events of the past color the future, child abuse, et cetera, were drowned out by DeLint and his Anvil Chorus. Between the coy phrasing of abuse victims as "Children of the Secret" and Jilly's apparent canonization, there is nothing real about this book or Jilly's and Raylene's experiences to hang onto. Instead, we're treated to a really long hurt/comfort fanfic. At one point, a character says something to the effect of "children are our most precious resource". While true, it reads as the author needing to make sure we get that point and providing it via anvilicious methods. We. Get. It. Charles. Will I read another DeLint book? Possibly - I'll at least give him one more chance. However, I definitely won't be buying it in hardback. I'll content myself with my copies of "Jack of Kinrowan" and "Trader" until his next book comes out in paperback. If his next book is the same as "The Onion Girl", I''ll sadly clear his books off my shelf and go in search of a new author who can make me feel the way DeLint used to.
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