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A review by pikasqueaks
Empty by K.M. Walton
1.0
Books involving fat protagonists are an incredibly hard sell for me. I've never read a YA book that got it right without sensationalizing it, or grossly exaggerating some of the more "disgusting" details just for shock value. Empty's one of those books, and it made me vaguely uncomfortable the entire time I was reading it. Not the "good" sort of uncomfortable, where you want to keep reading and be unsettled, but the bad kind of uncomfortable, where you can tell you're reading a book by someone who doesn't get it. If you spent your teenage years (or any years) being fat, I think you might understand. The way it's portrayed across the board is frustrating and makes you wonder if the people responsible have ever spent any time with someone that's fat.
It's hard not to look at books a little personally when they're on things that you've experienced. For me, Empty didn't feel real. At all. Dell's attitude and character was completely wrapped in the the fact that she'd gone from a size 10 to a size 24 in a short time, and her every waking second was consumed by the experience of being fat. There seems to be nothing else in Dell's life other than her god-awful attitude, her shallow emotions, and oh, right she can sing. Because Dell fits right into the mold of countless other weak YA books in which the character is defined by two things:
1. Their "issue"
2. Their one hobby
It happens in books all the time, and it's something I've grown wary of over the years. It feels like they're produced on an assembly line. Take some issue that teenagers can relate to, and pick one thing they can be good at. Mix together some emotions, and you've got a protagonist who doesn't reflect either with any accuracy. The "issue" seems wooden, and the "hobby" comes off planned, expected even. Teens are not defined by their issues, and I wish that books would stop letting this happen. They're not defined by their one or two hobbies (unless those hobbies are really that they're elite gymnasts or Olympic-level athletes, and even then, Lauren Tanner liked scheming as much as she likes gymnastics).
Dell has gained a significant amount of weight, and her parents are horrible to her. Dad abandoned her, and Mom is more interested in her pills than her daughter. But they both have plenty of time to snap at their daughter and remind her that she's fat. Really, everyone is horrible to her. Being fat has stripped all of Dell's self-confidence, her voice, her ability to control her emotions and her physical nature. Being fat takes up all of Dell's life and time, being fat takes up every page of this book. It takes up emotional space, it takes up all of the conversations she has, it weighs on Dell's mind every second of every day -- and that's not supposed to be a cute joke about being fat. There is nothing to her character the doesn't revolve around it, and we're reminded all the time.
That's not how being fat works. Even for a teenage girl. It's like the book is about Dell's fat, rather than Dell. I'm not griping because it's not sending the right "message" to readers, I'm bothered because it's an inauthentic portrayal of a young girl that creates a wall between the character and the reader. If K.M. Walton wanted to tell the story of a bullied, misunderstood, broken young girl as she states in her saccharine author's note, she failed. She told a story about a teenager's fat body, and how it ruined everything.
We have a plot to the story that will remind the avid YA reader of several other books that came first. Dell is sexually assaulted by her friend's boyfriend. The second people find out, they turn their bully radar to her and make her life a living hell. To that note, what I did like about this book is that we are reminded, finally, that survivors of these types of assault are not just one type of person -- despite what TV and movies and other books would like us to believe, it happens to any kind of person, not just "the beautiful people." I think that if the author had focused more on that than the other things I've talked about, this book would have been so much stronger. If Dell was given a character, rather than an issue, it could have worked.
As much as that might have been important for the author to get out in the open, it's hidden under miles of things that make Dell, and the story, completely unlikable. There's a talent showcase, Dell's supposed to sing for it. Her best friend's on the verge of ditching her for the popular crowd. Because we are firmly in YA land, where this happens to every other girl. It's not just Dell whose character suffers. Her best friend is portrayed as weak-minded and vapid, like so many other "best friends" before her.
Empty is at its core, a story that pulls the melodramatic bits and pieces from other books, and attempts to make them its own. This can work. Unfortunately, the writing is not strong enough to make this one stand out, the wooden characters are effortlessly forgettable, and the ending? Yeah, the title is rather accurate.
It's hard not to look at books a little personally when they're on things that you've experienced. For me, Empty didn't feel real. At all. Dell's attitude and character was completely wrapped in the the fact that she'd gone from a size 10 to a size 24 in a short time, and her every waking second was consumed by the experience of being fat. There seems to be nothing else in Dell's life other than her god-awful attitude, her shallow emotions, and oh, right she can sing. Because Dell fits right into the mold of countless other weak YA books in which the character is defined by two things:
1. Their "issue"
2. Their one hobby
It happens in books all the time, and it's something I've grown wary of over the years. It feels like they're produced on an assembly line. Take some issue that teenagers can relate to, and pick one thing they can be good at. Mix together some emotions, and you've got a protagonist who doesn't reflect either with any accuracy. The "issue" seems wooden, and the "hobby" comes off planned, expected even. Teens are not defined by their issues, and I wish that books would stop letting this happen. They're not defined by their one or two hobbies (unless those hobbies are really that they're elite gymnasts or Olympic-level athletes, and even then, Lauren Tanner liked scheming as much as she likes gymnastics).
Dell has gained a significant amount of weight, and her parents are horrible to her. Dad abandoned her, and Mom is more interested in her pills than her daughter. But they both have plenty of time to snap at their daughter and remind her that she's fat. Really, everyone is horrible to her. Being fat has stripped all of Dell's self-confidence, her voice, her ability to control her emotions and her physical nature. Being fat takes up all of Dell's life and time, being fat takes up every page of this book. It takes up emotional space, it takes up all of the conversations she has, it weighs on Dell's mind every second of every day -- and that's not supposed to be a cute joke about being fat. There is nothing to her character the doesn't revolve around it, and we're reminded all the time.
That's not how being fat works. Even for a teenage girl. It's like the book is about Dell's fat, rather than Dell. I'm not griping because it's not sending the right "message" to readers, I'm bothered because it's an inauthentic portrayal of a young girl that creates a wall between the character and the reader. If K.M. Walton wanted to tell the story of a bullied, misunderstood, broken young girl as she states in her saccharine author's note, she failed. She told a story about a teenager's fat body, and how it ruined everything.
We have a plot to the story that will remind the avid YA reader of several other books that came first. Dell is sexually assaulted by her friend's boyfriend. The second people find out, they turn their bully radar to her and make her life a living hell. To that note, what I did like about this book is that we are reminded, finally, that survivors of these types of assault are not just one type of person -- despite what TV and movies and other books would like us to believe, it happens to any kind of person, not just "the beautiful people." I think that if the author had focused more on that than the other things I've talked about, this book would have been so much stronger. If Dell was given a character, rather than an issue, it could have worked.
As much as that might have been important for the author to get out in the open, it's hidden under miles of things that make Dell, and the story, completely unlikable. There's a talent showcase, Dell's supposed to sing for it. Her best friend's on the verge of ditching her for the popular crowd. Because we are firmly in YA land, where this happens to every other girl. It's not just Dell whose character suffers. Her best friend is portrayed as weak-minded and vapid, like so many other "best friends" before her.
Empty is at its core, a story that pulls the melodramatic bits and pieces from other books, and attempts to make them its own. This can work. Unfortunately, the writing is not strong enough to make this one stand out, the wooden characters are effortlessly forgettable, and the ending? Yeah, the title is rather accurate.