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14 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Daisy Fay for President!, July 11, 2002
It's not often accurate to describe anyone as a hero/ine, but Daisy Fay Harper is the heroine of one of my favorite books, "Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man" by Fannie Flagg. It's a sweet, silly, noble, crazy book, sometimes heartrendingly sad but more often hysterically funny; and unlike some cutesie kid characters, Daisy will strike an unmistakeable note of truth with anyone who remembers what being a child was really like.The book is in the form of Daisy's diary. The story starts when she's eleven and ends when she's about twenty. In the beginning, she's a very bright girl with a sense of humor that can only be described as "wacky" (I usually dislike that word -- but what else can you call somebody who titles her Halloween project "The Hall of Blood and Guts"?). Her parents are constantly fighting, primarily because her father is completely irresponsible, but she's very fond of her father because they're so much alike -- ambitious, charming, full of big ideas and harebrained schemes. Daisy daydreams about movies and popular songs, and eagerly anticipates blossoming into an exciting adulthood of fame, fortune, the occasional albino, and Technicolor adventures. Like Pippi Longstocking, Daisy is feisty and self-confident, and her mental and emotional health are not at all hampered by "femininity". It doesn't bother her that being smart makes her different from the other kids at school, or that girls aren't supposed to be the class clown -- and if she even realizes that she's an oddball, she's OK with that. Despite her weirdness, she has her own circle of friends, including some grown-ups. She has only one arch-enemy, the arrogant, spoiled-rotten rich kid Kay Bob Benson (every kid knows another kid who's a hateful, backstabbing snake, and the adult authority figures never seem to catch on -- why is that, I wonder?), whom she's able to outsmart and outmaneuver without even trying very hard. I like Daisy partly because she's a little bit like me -- or like I could have been in a parallel universe -- but mainly just because Daisy is who and what she is. She personifies the childlike qualities that most of us start out with and then lose somewhere along the way. Daisy's brave, smart, kind, resourceful, and funny -- but also stubborn, amoral, buttheaded, and conniving. She's loyal, generous, and supportive toward her family and friends (when one of her pals gets a fever that causes all his hair to fall out, she wins the essay contest by writing a composition titled "Why I Want to be Bald"), but downright vengeful toward her nemesis, the evil Kay Bob (who richly deserves it). Daisy looks after she leaps, not before -- that is, if it ever occurs to her to look at all, which isn't often -- and the results aren't always what she expects or hopes for. She doesn't always succeed in being good -- in fact, a lot of the time, she doesn't even try -- mainly because the not-so-good way is easier and/or more fun. But deep down, she's pure at heart and trying to find her way in a world that doesn't always make sense to kids -- and too often, isn't kind to them, either. Daisy's underlying integrity makes the reader empathize with and root for her throughout the book, no matter what sort of mischief she's up to at a given moment. The pleasurably implausible plot is full of surprises and convoluted twists and turns. The characters, far from being cookie-cutter cartoons of down-home Southern folks, are complex, varied individuals. Nobody is too good to be true; almost nobody is too bad to be true; and nobody is "quirky" in that cheesy fake-cute way that never *ever* happens in real life. A lot of the book is fairly over-the-top, but in other passages, the humor is deadpan, almost as though Flagg were trying to sneak it past the reader. I don't want to give away too many surprises, but one example of this is too good not to share: In Home Ec, Daisy's classmate accidentally sewed the skirt of her dress to the sewing machine, and when the bell rang at the end of class and everybody stood up to go, it ripped off the entire sewing machine arm. The last sentence in Daisy's diary entry for that day reads simply: "Tomorrow we're having a lecture on 'Safety and Small Appliances'". Flagg's writing style never clobbers or manipulates the reader -- she's equally clever, observant, and deft whether she's making you laugh or making you cry. Her obvious heartfelt emotion for the place and the people (good and bad) imbue the book with authenticity and compassion, without being sappy. There's also something about her writing style that makes me feel as though she's a genuinely kind person, one whom I'd like to have for a friend. Despite some very real tragedies (on both a great and small level) in the story, the overall message of the book is basically simple and uplifting. Daisy isn't beautiful or brilliant or rich -- she's an ordinary kid with no superpowers, who spills her milk and trips over the volleyball net and swipes things from the five and ten. But as we find out, even ordinary people are capable of extraordinary moments and deeds. Daisy accomplishes some wonderful things (on both a great and small level), and is successful in her own way (which is the only way that means anything, anyway), and makes her corner of the world a little bit goofier place to be.
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