Author: Christopher Ward
Publisher: Dundurn
Rating: WARTY!
DISCLOSURE: Unlike the majority of reviews in this blog, I've neither bought this book nor borrowed it from the library. This is a "galley" copy ebook, supplied by Net Galley. I'm not receiving (nor will I expect to receive or accept) remuneration for this review. The chance to read a new book is often enough reward aplenty!
I've had good success with books from Dundurn Press, but in this case, I simply could not get into this story at all from song-writer Christopher Ward. It was rambling and dissipated and offered no clue as to where it was going. My only clue came from the blurb, but you'd never have any hint of this from the opening few chapters of this story, which is what I mean by rambling and dissipated.
Worse than this, it was set in France! Don't get me wrong - this alone was a good thing as far as it went. We need far more novels NOT set in the US, so US young adults actually realize that there's a world west of Cape Blanco, Oregon, and East of West Quoddy Head in Maine, and south of Key West, Florida, and north of Northwest Angle, Minnesota! Maybe that way, US young adults might not place next to last in geography surveys!
And yes, I'm highly amused by the idea that the easternmost point is named "West" and the southernmost point is also named "West"! LOL!
That said, the problem with setting this in France is that the author evidently thought that the best way to establish a French atmosphere was to annoyingly pepper the text libéralement de français mots et phrases. See what I mean? Annoying, n'est-ce-pas? The truth is that while this might serve to allow to author to sing, "Hey, look how multi-cultural I am!" It did nothing whatsoever to establish that this story actually was taking place in France. Maybe it was Canada? Or Haiti? Côte d'Ivoire?
The story is told in deux parts, which are no doubt destined to converge. The première is the theft of La Joconde from the Louvre. What's that, you ask? Well, it's a big building in Paris, with paintings and sculptures, but that's not important right now. Seriously, it's the Mona Lisa, which actually has been stolen, but never so easily as it was here.
The second part is where fifteen-year-old Mackenzie discovers that there is to be a New Year's taxi road rally, and talks her dumb-ass parents into letting her ride unescorted with a "hulking cabbie" named "Blag Lebouef" Seriously? These names are a joke, and this entire premise is absurde.
I actually didn't get that far because I got so bored out of my gourd with reading the rambling, endlessly rambling, tiresomely rambling, and oh, did I mention fastidieux randonnée story that I couldn't stand to pursue it beyond chapter five. I can't recommend it based on what I read. It's verruqueux! There, did I convey the impression that this blog was set in France? Je ne le pense pas....
