Re-Read: Nowhere High Series. So ’90s!

A Review (kind of) of the Nowhere High series, by Jesse Maguire

Ivy (Ballantine), 1989-1992

Nowhere High series Jesse Maguire

By REBECCA, October 17, 2012

Sometimes I feel like Crunchings & Munchings really exists so that I can talk about all the ’90s-era books series that I loved so much as a kid but that never really slotted into “classic YA” enough that anyone talks about them (I won’t speak for you, Tessa, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the ’90s figure pretty heavily into your C&M joy too). In that tradition, then, today I bring you the Nowhere High series—a series that, as far as I know, none of my friends growing up ever read, making it impossible for me to describe any of their hair as being “the color of eucalyptus tree bark—sort of silvery brown” and have them know what I was talking about (6). Anyhoosier, the Nowhere High books were a staple of my ’90s childhood, but much to my shock, when I tried to look the books up to write this review, I saw that there were a seventh and eighth book in the series that I never read. I must get my hands on them immediately!

The deal is this: when TJ McAllister moves to rural Pennsylvania from L.A., he finds himself on the wrong side of a group of pants-snatching, mud-slinging dudes after his first day at Ernest Norwell (“Nowhere”) High. TJ soon meets Caroline Buchanan (Caro), the girlfriend of the school badass who doesn’t seem to care about anyone; Josh Hickham, one-time pants-stealer but artist at heart; Darcy Jenner, boarding school reject whose passion for pranks doesn’t fit with her good-girl image; Alison Laurel (Mouse), Caro’s childhood best friend with a passion for music and thrift store magic; and a few other misfits. They commandeer an abandoned railroad station on the outskirts of town and turn Split River Station into more of a home than most of them have. They are, so the cover of book one tells me, “Hanging out and holding on . . . together.”

This series has many of the things that I love about YA fiction combined with many of the things that I love about ’90s movies:

Foxfire gorgeousness!1. A hideout! Number one wish from middle and high school?: that I could have had an amazing abandoned railroad station hideout with my friends! (Well, maybe, like, number two wish.) Split River Station is awesome, and throughout the series all the characters run away to it, hook up in it, and break down in it.

The Breakfast Club2. A rag-tag bunch of misfits! My favorite thing about the series is that the characters are all so different that none of them would be very likely to be friends in high school—you know, The Breakfast Club vibe. “Looking around the cafeteria, [Caro] saw that the rest of the school was neatly divided into groups” (40-41). When they’re together at Split River Station, though, none of what is expected of them by social group matters. So Josh can just do his art, Darcy doesn’t have to be nice, Mouse isn’t a freak, Caro is more than her looks, and TJ . . . well, TJ is a freaking mensch and I’m sure he would be whatever social group he was in.

3. Small town life! Many of the best ’90s books and movies are about kids chafing against their small towns. And it seems to me that it’s mostly in small towns that the high school stereotypes are the strongest, since there isn’t much mixing or variety, so it makes sense that they are the settings for much angst. It’s the same in this small town in Pennsylvania. Everyone knows each other so it’s hard to get past reputations, and new kids stick out forever. In a way, actually, the first book in the series, Nowhere High, reminded me a bit of a 1989 (mid-Atlantic) version of S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders, one of my favorite books of all time.No, really! I mean, obviously, it’s not anywhere near as good as The Outsiders, but there is a sense of desperation in the characters, and that shade of hard-edged girls and by-turns distant and violent guys that seems familiar from Hinton’s world. Especially Holly Vickers (such a good name!), the twin sister of one of the school bad boys—she smokes, chews gum loudly, fights, bullies people into dating her, and uses enough hairspray to fell a llama.

Nowhere High Jesse Maguire4. Early ’90s fashion! So, I’m going to do a whole post sometime soon about my favorite descriptions of fashion from YA lit (send me your nominations!) and Mouse in Nowhere High definitely ranks. Caro wears “a tank top, a big khaki shirt to go over it, and a pair of jeans. . . . She clipped on some earrings, pushed a couple of bracelets on, and pulled on a pair of boots” (62). Khaki shirt! Clip-on earrings! Mouse shops for the school dance at a thrift shop and she is clearly a master:

“Alison had unearthed a peasant blouse, heavy with old lace on the neck and sleeves, and an ancient cocktail dress with a stiff strapless bodice and a sequined skirt. Curious, Josh watched as she carefully folded the ugly bodice down and held the blouse up over the skirt. Then she took an old fringed shawl in green, gold, and brown, and with a quick twitch of her fingers, flung it about the skirt at a rakish angle—and suddenly there was a striking outfit” (143).

Supernatural Sam Dean Castiel5. Good, old-fashioned, interpersonal drama! Friends, I never thought I’d say it, sprung full-grown from the bookheads of Anne Rice and J.R.R Tolkien that I am, but I am a little para-super-extra-ed out. I’m sick of prefixes in general, as a matter of fact, and so returning to this mundane saga of pretty basic teenage problems was something of a palate cleanser. People have fights, feel inadequate, want to make art, get pregnant, fall in love, hope, eat, and not a whole heck of a lot else. It’s like I’ve been so supernaturaled-out that when I was rereading the series I kept thinking, like, oh, now TJ and Josh are going to turn out to be creatures and—no, wait, and ah, I bet Caro’s eucalyptus hair is really a Medusa—oh, yeah, not this time. And I didn’t miss it at all.

So, what are your all-time, top-five, desert-island ’90s reads? Inquiring minds want to know.

Re-Read: Remember Me by Christopher Pike

Remember Me / Christopher Pike

Pocket Books, 1989

review by Tessa

Characters

Shari Cooper, green eyed ghost

Jimmy Cooper, diabetic sleepwalker brother

Mary Parish, housekeeper for the Coopers and a surrogate mom to Shari

Amanda Parish, quiet and lovely girl who may be leading Jimmy on

Jo Foulton, Shari’s best friend and bestower of annoying nicknames

“Big” Beth, frenemy of Shari and Jo whose birthday party is the site of Shari’s Death. Well-endowed in the chest.

Dan, Shari’s vain, rich boyfriend

Jeff Nichols, not the biggest fan of Shari

Peter Nichols, dead brother of Jeff & spirit guide to the light

The Shadow, scary between-world presence

Garrett, drunk detective

hook

Shari Cooper went to a birthday party and ended up a ghost. Before she can move on, she wants to know how it happened, and who pushed her off of a balcony.

Why are you rereading this?

It seems like most of the people I know were really into Goosebumps growing up. Or at least into the intro to the TV show where the dog barks in rhythm to the theme song (it really is something).  R.L. Stine is a great guy and all, but I have to disagree that he’s the be-all and end-all of adolescent horror books of the ’90s. In my estimation, that title will always go to Christopher Pike, who is so much more of an enigma, anyway, and therefore gains mystery cred.  Pike doesn’t even have a photo on his publisher’s author page, whereas R.L. Stine has a whole website with embedded music.

Pike’s competition was the Fear Street series by Stine (which came before Goosebumps--I was reading my older sister’s books and so never found that younger series as appealing) and had, in my memory, a more epic scope. Stine’s stories were the equivalent of slasher flicks and Pike’s were menacing mystical mysteries, closer in tone to Stephen King and John Saul than Stine could hope for.

At least, that’s what my memory is telling me.

It’s time for me to track them down and re-read them to find out if I’m right.

I started with Remember Me because it’s one of the first Pike books I read. . . and I recently had to withdraw it from my library because the cover is so terrible that no one was picking it up – that’s a professional guess:

Does the book hold up?

I’m pleased to say that it did hold my attention.  Shari’s narrative voice reminded me of Sookie Stackhouse’s comforting way of oversharing her every thought and observation, often digressing into low-level life philosophies. However, while after 10 books Sookie starts to repeat herself and ramble, Shari is younger, bitchier, and more honest–being dead makes one a little more objective about their life–and she’s only got 230 pages to roam around in here.  I remember being absolutely gripped by the fact that a ghost was narrating her own murder mystery. A ghost who says things like

“Beth was sort of a friend of mine, sort of an accidental associate, and the latest in a seemingly endless string of bitches who were trying to steal my boyfriend away.”

Shari has the kind of character tics invented to give a character something to repeat so that you can remember who they are, or to slip in an important plot point in a “subtle” way. It’s not the most accomplished way to build character, but it gave me a nice wave of nostalgic feeling for that era in YA writing. Shari has dark blonde hair that just breaks brushes in two! And she’s green-eyed, but her brother thinks her eyes are brown.

Remember Me takes its time building up the suspense. We know Shari is dead from the first sentence, but she doesn’t actually die until page 56.  Pike takes his time getting Shari out of her house, letting her talk to her brother, her housekeeper/mother figure over cake, talk to the reader about her boyfriend’s “dashing” body and how she loves to think about sex (she makes it sound wholesome and red-cheeked of her, but also shallow), get into the boyfriend’s car, go over to her best friends’ house, talk to her best friend’s mom, get back into the car, and finally get to the fatal party . . . where the guests bitch at each other, open presents–Daniel, Shari’s boyfriend, gives Beth diamond earrings, ahem–hang out, cheat on each other, etc.  Then Jo, the New-Agey best friend, sucker everyone into a game of fortune-telling using the human body as the medium.  Which leads to talking to a presumed-present spirit through Shari’s body, put into a hypnotic trance via a fake funeral.

The fortune telling and the trance still put a prickle through the back of my neck. I hadn’t remembered them being so elaborate, so full of foreboding and soul-searching:

“Jeff was getting awfully heavy awfully fast. ‘But are certain things in our lives dstined?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Jo said. ‘It’s very clear this time.’

‘Is the force that we understand as God directly answering these questions?’ Jeff asked.

‘No,’ Jo said, and she seemed disappointed.

‘Is there a God?’ Jeff asked.

‘Yes,’ Jo said.

‘Is he as we imagine him?’ Jeff asked.

‘No,’ Jo said.

‘Is there life after death?’ Jeff asked.”

Once Shari is killed, the mood of the book turns to her exploration of shock, grief, and bewilderment, and her determination to find out what happened.  She eventually confronts questions like Jeff’s in her own way, but the story doesn’t leave its readers wallowing in the implications of the afterlife. We have a murder to attend to, and to solve it we need to slip in and out of dreams, figure out a family history worthy of the daytime soaps, and learn a little about diabetes and colorblindness. That’s all I’ll say in case you don’t want to be spoiled.

Having said that, maybe you can guess where this book falls on the

This book falls squarely in the pink, I’d say. Shari is dead, she has to go into the light, there’s a thing called a Shadow chasing her that pulses with terror, so we have acknowledged paranormal activity. Yet it doesn’t go totally woo-woo. 95% of the book is set on Earth, for example, and deals with real-world people.

Which Pike should I read next?

I’m thinking Chain Letter. I hope that if this were published today it would have a blurb describing it as “off the chain!”

Until next time, Pike Pals!

Re-read: Girl by Blake Nelson

Girl: A Novel
Blake Nelson
Touchstone/Simon & Schuster, 1994

Things that I remembered about Girl before re-reading:
- a feeling of how monumentally great it was
- an image of a drawing of a hallway with red lockers (maybe the illustration from when an excerpt was published in Sassy?)
-shaved heads
-being alone at a show
-finding clothes to wear that made you feel right
-feeling weird about wearing those clothes at school
-an image of standing outside of someone’s house who you really like but aren’t sure of your relationship, and not knowing if they’re in there or if you even want to try to knock on the door

Things that were in the book that I didn’t remember:
-death
-sex
-suicide
-german tourists
-frozen yogurt at Scamp’s and Taco Time
-college applications
-drugs
-working on the high school newspaper
-the importance of wearing one’s hair up
-the sadness of how someone’s grandpa takes all day to walk around the block

Why are you re-reading this novel anyway? What’s it all about?

If you were a teenager in the 90s the YA section of the library (if there was one) was not filled with books about your youth culture.  There were books about youths, sure, and good classic books like The Outsiders.  But nothing about the bands you liked or the scene you wanted to be a part of (I’m assuming you are me in this hypothetical situation).

For that kind of news, you would read Sassy magazine.  Where they sometimes published fiction.  Which is where you learned about Weetzie Bat. And where you first read a story about a girl named Andrea Marr, who was starting her sophomore year at Hillside High School in Portland Oregon.  Her sort of weird loner friend Cybil, who everyone knew as a soccer jock, met a boy downtown named Todd Sparrow, and he impressed her so much she had to do something, so she shaved her head.  Because of Cybil’s hair statement, a boy in school suggests they start a band.  And so Andrea, through Cybil, gains access to a scene.

don't ask me how many times I've watched Empire Records. Enough to only picture Cybil as Deb. photo by Jimmy J. Aquino, click through for live tweeting of that classic film.

Girl follows Andrea up until her graduation and in and out of friendships, through short paragraphs of first-person narration that aren’t exactly journal entries, more like someone talking to themselves in their head.  Andrea loses her virginity, finds the best vintage stores where she buys what her mom calls her “granny clothes”, is sent to work as maintenance crew for a summer camp because of her new interest in said clothes and going to shows at the Outer Limits, starts applying herself to school and getting into college as a way to avoid that fate for another summer, finally meets Todd Sparrow, and sees herself turning into the kind of girl she used to look up to in awe when she was a couple years younger–I mean, she literally sees that look on the faces of people around her:

“Carla turned to me and said ‘I dont’ know if you know this but when Todd goes to Seattle he stays with a girl named Tori and if you want to call her and find out if he’s out of jail, I’ll give you her number.’ I said okay and I took the number and sat back and we all watched Rebecca dance. And all these boys kept coming up to us and it was annoying and Carla wanted to go outside . So me and Cybil went with her and it was a lot better outside because everyone leaned on cars and sat on the curb just like at Outer Limits. And I asked Carla what Tori was like and how old was she and Carla said she was pretty weird and she was twenty-five and she was manic-depressive.  And all the time we were talking guys were staring at us and girls too and I remembered Outer Limits and how Carla was always the coolest girl and whatever people were with her were always the coolest people.” (161)

Andrea was the perfect mixture of naive and cool for a slightly younger teen stuck in the suburbs on which to project her own longings, hopes, and fears. It doesn’t hurt that she’s never really described, looks-wise, so the reader can fully identify herself as Andrea.

new cover...

Does this novel hold up after a reread?

It more than holds up.  As evidenced by my lists above, I retained strong sensory impressions of the feelings Girl left with me but not much else.  It was intense reading it as a teenager but just as enjoyable reading as an adult – I got the rush of remembering my original love of the book and an added layer of looking back at how the characters and their actions come across as an adult.

For example, Andrea’s relationship with Todd Sparrow is obviously exhilarating and new but also sad and emotionally trying–they have great conversations about death, but she also has to ration her time with him through a complex system of symbols in her planner so that she doesn’t ask for too much of him. I could appreciate the intensity of her feelings while also seeing how Nelson slips in details of Todd Sparrow that make me pity him as an adult – he never has money, he’s always making Andrea pay for things, and he’s a 22 year old who is using Andrea as a 16 year old girl-on-the-side. You can see that his life experiences have wounded him so he’s not really emotionally mature or available.

The great thing is that you can tell that Andrea kind of knows this, too, but not in an acknowledged way.  She’s still totally in love and lust with him, and her reservations take the form of trying to figure out how not to look like a groupie and not seem too whiny around Todd–saving face for herself because she knows it’s not a real relationship, but also loving the intense feelings she has with him.  In fact, I’d say the skeeviest dude in the book is not Todd, but Scott Haskell, who takes advantage of Andrea while she’s passed out to use her as real-life jerking off material.

photo by flickr user Dougtone

It’s the voice that Nelson creates for Andrea that makes this novel work and will make it last years down the line.  Unlike many young adult novels using diary-style narration, Andrea doesn’t address the reader and Nelson doesn’t use a device to explain why she’s narrating her experience.  Her voice stands alone, confident and direct. It doesn’t have to explain itself, it just sucks you in.

There’s something about the teenage experience where you worry simultaneously about the big things and the little things, and you feel like you’re just on the cusp of figuring everything out–because finally you have some freedom to make something happen with the emotions that you feel.  Everything is important and receives the same weight of thought, whether it’s if you shop at the same store for all of your clothes, or if some guy breaks your friend’s eardrum at the school lunch table.

Here’s an example of Andrea’s voice, combining all the big and little things in her life in a moment that is both important and forgettable the next day:

“After that we drove around and parked and made out. Then we talked and Mark said how he thought Cybil was okay and how he defended her to his friends when she shaved her head. And he thought the Outer Limits scene was all right in some ways. He was leading up to asking me for sex but I changed the subject to clothes. I complained that my Gap skirt was too boring but he said I looked really cute in it and how I was the cutest girl at the show. And then he told me how sexy I was and how I had a great body. And then let down the seat and got on top of me and we made out more intense than ever. And it was so strange because he was Mark Pierce, senior, with a car, and very cute, who millions of girls liked. And I felt like I should like him more and I tried to but it was hard in the dark when he was just this big weight grinding into you.” (22)

Another great thing about the story is how it captures the microcosm of high school. It does focus on Andrea and her friendship with Cybil, but it also follows the various transformations of several other characters – Greg, Richard, Darcy, Rebecca, Marjorie, and Betsy Warren to name a few, as well as the mysterious outside-of-high-school figures like Todd Sparrow, Carla who is always the coolest girl in the room, Nick from Pax, and Eric the owner of K Club.  Because Andrea narrates the book like she’s talking to herself, it comes off as natural to know about these people–shown passing in and out of Andrea’s awareness.  In this way the world of Girl is unmistakeably the real world and never loses its authenticity.

It’s also not just a story about a romance. Andrea has her one big love, but the focus of the story is really on her and Cybil and the intersection and contrast between their two ways of becoming.  Andrea is narrating, so we see it all from her perspective, but Nelson puts enough in there for us to see the ways that Cybil is lost that Andrea can’t objectively see.

So, if I liked My So-Called Life…
you will definitely like Girl. Andrea is Angela’s gritter West-Coast counterpart.

Where can I read more about the eternally cute Blake Nelson?

Blake Nelson just wrote a sequel to Girl called Dream School (that I have and am excited and scared to read), so there’s been a happymaking amount of coverage of him lately around the blogs. Here’s a few links:

Blake’s blogspot
Interview at Rookie Mag:
“I got a lot of it wrong, I realized as I got older. But one thing I’ve noticed is that people are insecure about sex, so if a female character says: ‘Whenever I kiss a boy, my ears tingle,’ the female reader thinks: ‘Oh no! Why don’t my ears tingle?’ instead of thinking: ‘That doesn’t really happen! This is a guy writing this, not a girl!’ Also, I think in some cases, if you have a good story going, people will go with it.”
Interview at the Hairpin:
“GIRL was originally an adult book. I wrote it basically for Kim Gordon [of Sonic Youth] for some reason. And for my friends who had been through the ’80s punk scene of when I was in high school. The tone of it was originally ‘look how stupid we all were.’ And how adorably confused. But then about halfway through, I realized that the kids of that time (the Sassy ’90s) were going to be the real audience. “
Profile at The Millions
Interview at Teenage Film

This guy knows how to write.

Should I read his other books?

Yes! Especially Destroy All Cars. I’m constantly trying to get people to read that one. It’s a funny book that has boy appeal.

Is there anything else you want to say, Tessa?

Yes, I’m wondering if the model on the cover of the original paperback, credited as Michelle Madonna, is the same Michelle Madonna who is on a reality TV show called Queen Bees. Does anyone know?

Also, Blake Nelson, your poem “Never Change” was up on my wall for a long, long time. Thank you for writing that.

I got this book from:my own personal bookshelf.

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