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A review by huncamuncamouse
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: The Diary of Bess Brennan by Barry Denenberg
3.0
Barry Denenberg's contributions are some of the most challenging to rate, and this is no exception.
The book begins with twins Bess and Elin, who are used to being "mirror images" of one another in every way. However, after a freak sledding accident, Bess is blinded. In the beginning, Elin transcribes Bess's thoughts as well as her own. However, soon a teacher begins helping Bess and Elin drops from the narrative. I didn't care much for this narrative device, and it was annoying that suddenly Elin's feelings and thoughts stopped being recorded. What had been the point in the first place, then? Indeed, Bess kind of calls out the issue herself when she wonders how she can truly be free to share her thoughts if others are listening. But it was at least creative on Deneberg's part, I guess.
Bess begins attending a special school for the blind and makes two best friends, Eva and Amanda. I struggled with these characters a lot. Amanda keeps reiterating that she wants one of the teachers "dead," and while I certainly know how it feels to hate a teacher, this was repeated so frequently that if it was ever meant to sound funny, it stopped reading like a joke. Eva steals a teacher's fake teeth in a prank that seems especially mean spirited. A man who makes ignorant comments at a family dinner later drops dead, and Bess calls it a "miracle." Then there's an extended bad joke told in the "broken" English of a Chinese man. I just don't know what to do with all this weirdness. Basically that's how I wind up feeling every time I read one of Denenberg's contributions to the series. I have no problem with black humor, but it just didn't read as funny!
The premise of having this book take place at the school was fascinating, and I just wanted more content about what life was like, and how specifically Bess adapted. I wanted more resolution to how she negotiated relationships with people she knew before her accident. I wanted to know more about what happens to the twin bond when suddenly you're living completely different experiences and are forced to carve out your own independent identity. This is one of the shortest Dear America books--only about 110 pages before the historical note and photos, and it felt underbaked.
As usual, the epilogue disappointed. Denenberg delights in giving at least one character a miserable fate. Here, it's Amanda who is swept out to sea. But troublingly, he makes a note that Bess never marries or has children. I found this frustrating precisely because she goes out of her way to say that she wants both of these things for herself in the book. So what changed? Was this by choice? Did her disability somehow play a role?
While Denenberg couldn't be bothered to explore important questions like that, he did make sure he had time to namedrop his own first Dear America book--this time in the form of a play that the school NEVER EVEN PERFORMS. But of course he makes sure to mention that the play is wonderful. Like really? You wasted pages on this plot that led nowhere but couldn't be bothered to deepen your main character's personal life? SMH as usual, Barry.
The book begins with twins Bess and Elin, who are used to being "mirror images" of one another in every way. However, after a freak sledding accident, Bess is blinded. In the beginning, Elin transcribes Bess's thoughts as well as her own. However, soon a teacher begins helping Bess and Elin drops from the narrative. I didn't care much for this narrative device, and it was annoying that suddenly Elin's feelings and thoughts stopped being recorded. What had been the point in the first place, then? Indeed, Bess kind of calls out the issue herself when she wonders how she can truly be free to share her thoughts if others are listening. But it was at least creative on Deneberg's part, I guess.
Bess begins attending a special school for the blind and makes two best friends, Eva and Amanda. I struggled with these characters a lot. Amanda keeps reiterating that she wants one of the teachers "dead," and while I certainly know how it feels to hate a teacher, this was repeated so frequently that if it was ever meant to sound funny, it stopped reading like a joke. Eva steals a teacher's fake teeth in a prank that seems especially mean spirited. A man who makes ignorant comments at a family dinner later drops dead, and Bess calls it a "miracle." Then there's an extended bad joke told in the "broken" English of a Chinese man. I just don't know what to do with all this weirdness. Basically that's how I wind up feeling every time I read one of Denenberg's contributions to the series. I have no problem with black humor, but it just didn't read as funny!
The premise of having this book take place at the school was fascinating, and I just wanted more content about what life was like, and how specifically Bess adapted. I wanted more resolution to how she negotiated relationships with people she knew before her accident. I wanted to know more about what happens to the twin bond when suddenly you're living completely different experiences and are forced to carve out your own independent identity. This is one of the shortest Dear America books--only about 110 pages before the historical note and photos, and it felt underbaked.
As usual, the epilogue disappointed. Denenberg delights in giving at least one character a miserable fate. Here, it's Amanda who is swept out to sea. But troublingly, he makes a note that Bess never marries or has children. I found this frustrating precisely because she goes out of her way to say that she wants both of these things for herself in the book. So what changed? Was this by choice? Did her disability somehow play a role?
While Denenberg couldn't be bothered to explore important questions like that, he did make sure he had time to namedrop his own first Dear America book--this time in the form of a play that the school NEVER EVEN PERFORMS. But of course he makes sure to mention that the play is wonderful. Like really? You wasted pages on this plot that led nowhere but couldn't be bothered to deepen your main character's personal life? SMH as usual, Barry.