This is a good novel, you know? Good in that wholesome, delicious, crisp sense of the word. Good like a green apple is good and good like summer sunshine is good. The style and substance of the novel are perfectly paired, and so the story dances and glistens throughout, leading you down a winding river filled with ‘gators and kidnappers and ivory-billed woodpeckers. But it’s also good in the moral sense; it’s a Mother Teresa of a book. Throughout the novel, the protagonist Richard learns about the issues which threaten the environment, as a result of the materialist, resource-hungry world we live in. Rather than doing a preachy job of it, Hiaasen writes in a manner which opens your eyes in sync with Richard opening his, meaning that when you put down the book, you feel a little more passionate, a little more aware, about the damage we’ve caused to the earth. And I don’t know about you but these days, few novels, whether they are YA or not, inspire me to make change, to actually do something. That’s a writer’s goal worth aiming for.
The premise of the novel is based around the terrifying event which years of PSHE lessons warned us against – allowing ourselves to be groomed by an online predator and then meeting up with them. Richard, a sweet, slightly reticent sixteen year old, is caught up in the hunt for his cousin Malley, a classic teen rebel. In fact, if I have any major fault to find with the novel, it’s how Malley’s character seems to betray slight hints of two dimensionality. She’s almost too classic – smart, but skips classes, likes to run away, causes havoc, but her heart is in the right place… Perhaps Hiassen watched one too many ‘80s teen movies before writing. However, Malley serves only as a secondary character, as Richard’s best friend who is lured away by a deranged online predator who calls himself Talbo Chock and writes her romantic poetry in a chatroom. And anyway, once Malley has run away, enters the real star - Skink, the old, one-eyed, homeless, ex-Governer of of Florida. Just his presence has the book’s pages radiating sunlight and everything he says is utterly perfect.
I’m sorry but the quality of this review is about to deteriorate dramatically because thinking about Skink is making me quite dizzy with delight. He roves around the country punishing people who do things he doesn’t agree with, which while it’s an exciting job in it’s own right, is made even more exhilarating by the fact that he must remain incognito. He pours six packs of beer into petrol tanks of highway litterbugs and he beats up nasty men who steal turtle eggs and when he does all this, it’s so much fun. Richard and Skink take off after Malley, deciphering her whereabouts through clues, living off roadkill and playing each other their favourite songs. Richard, who grows through the novel (character development in 300 pages! Take note, half the authors writing today) endears himself to you through his earnest conversations with Skink and his frank analysis of the guy, who he comes to fervently admire. Once they find Malley, the rest of the story pans out in various fight scenes, chase scenes, etc, etc. Once again, they aren’t stale and overdone because of the context - Skink livens them up, whilst the descriptions of the river in which they take place means they seem richer and far more thrilling.
My review may or may not have convinced you that this is the cheesiest novel in the world, but listen to me when I promise you it isn’t. It’s an elegantly done, classic adventure novel, which can be marketed to all audiences, rather than the YA one which it’s currently meant to be for. And best of all, it’s about something which most children’s novels aren’t anymore, with their complex protagonists and confused morals - it’s about fighting the good fight.
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