Shine is also really suspenseful, a “compelling page-turner of a mystery” as well as being a “searing coming-of-age story” (a pretty accurate description).
It’s also just sad that places like this probably still exist, although I did love the way Myracle wrote the book in terms of diction, with the ungrammatical phrases and everything (although Cat is more educated and speaks grammatically). Still, Lauren Myracle was born in North Carolina, so I suppose she would know. I enjoyed the portrayal of the town Cat lives in, although I can’t help but wonder if towns like the ones portrayed in books as varied as Shine and Beautiful Creaturesactually exist. There were so many sad things in this book: the homophobia of the small town, the venomous sweetness of the townspeople, and most particularly the way Cat has drawn in on herself, dropping all of her friends, including Patrick. In this case, though, I got used to it and was able to enjoy this moving and disturbing read.
Shallow, I know, but as I mentioned in my review of The Apothecary, sometimes it really makes a difference.
Against a backdrop of poverty, clannishness, and intolerance, Myracle has crafted a searing coming-of-age story, couched in a compelling page-turner of a mystery.”Īt first, I wasn’t sure if I was going to like Shine, because of a multitude of things including its bad font. Cat’s brother is a member of the posse, and so is the boy who assaulted Cat years ago, forcing her into the self-imposed exile from which she must now emerge…for Patrick and for herself. Patrick is gay, and for years he has been teased and bullied by people claiming to be his friends, people Cat calls “the redneck posse.” She plans to start her hunt for the culprit with them. The local sheriff blames out-of-towners, but Cat is sure someone in their small, tightly knit Southern community is guilty of the crime. “When Patrick Truman is found beaten, bound, and left for dead, sixteen-year-old loner Cat is determined to discover the truth of what happened to her former best friend. Nooses for sawflies and katydids and anything guileless enough to be ensnared. Once I might have marveled at the webs – how delicate they were, how intricate – but today I saw ghastly silk ropes. Dust coated the windows, the petunias in the flower boxes bowed their heads, and spiderwebs clotted the eaves of the porch.
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