Dear Raven Boys,
The first time I read you, I had no idea what you were about. I didn't bother with your back cover. People had been raving about you, so I decided to see what you were like for myself.
It was autumn. Near Thanksgiving, or maybe it was Thanksgiving. Some details are hazy while others are distinct. My family and I were cleaning up after a very large lunch. Everybody buzzed with hype and excitement over something. Which generally meant a lot of teasing was being doled out as dishes were washed and leftovers stuffed in the frig. People drifted into the living area still jabbing jokes at each other.
I grabbed you. And excitement and eccentricity grabbed me. I noticed a sizable cardboard box in the corner. I need some signal to my family that I didn't want to be disturbed. So I jumped in the box, prayed no one would speak to me, and opened your cover.
"Blue Sargent had forgotten how many times she'd been told that she would kill her true love."
Your first line. And as much as it is not the type of line to enchant me, I was enchanted from that point lost in you. I transcended to an in-between plane that existed solely for the collision of reality and unreality, the creation of dreams and stories.
....
Years later
two moves later
a slummy community college and university later
an I-actually-have-friends-now later
many autumns later
It was autumn again.
two moves later
a slummy community college and university later
an I-actually-have-friends-now later
many autumns later
It was autumn again.
I wanted to revisit you and, this time, share you with some friends. You gave me the courage to do something I'd otherwise never do: I asked my friends to read you along with me. I'm a slow reader and so usually avoid buddy reads. I love to enjoy a book, especially you, at my own pace. I don't want to feel like there's a competition to finish you. Pressure should not be applied to books.
But I really wanted them to get to know you too. And they seemed eager for the same.
I didn't have a cardboard box this time.
On the back deck after the sun had settled behind the treetops, I took you to the hammock. The sky was cloudless and very blue. Bugs and birds hummed from the rustling trees. The wind was cool. I was alone at home. And I started you again.
"It was freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrived."
Your way of wording things is both subtle and abrupt. Sometimes you throw me in, crashing and rolling with no time to orient myself. And other times you ease me slowly down into a setting, a concept, a character, so slow I'm not sure what I'm seeing. I just know that I like it.
The way you describe your characters, touching each one, you caress them even as the story imprisons them in clawed clutches. They are both awful and wonderful. Tangibly real.
The sense of adventure you capture is contagious. I feel like I have half a Raven Cycle in me. I have the friends. The ones Blue longs for. With telepathic looks, uproarious shenanigans, thought-provoking conversations. But we're in need of a Glendower. Some quest to dash off to, a destination for my Kia Soul to take us.
And about that, your cars.
Your cars are characters themselves. The Pig, for all its quirks and faults, is so loved and cherished. It keeps going and going, even when it shouldn't. And when it can go no longer, nobody can blame it. It gives its all. The BMW is featured less in you, but it's there hovering in the back, ever-present, ever lurking. Ever grinning, sly and sharp. Like Ronan, whose POV is not featured in you either.
Your cars are characters themselves. The Pig, for all its quirks and faults, is so loved and cherished. It keeps going and going, even when it shouldn't. And when it can go no longer, nobody can blame it. It gives its all. The BMW is featured less in you, but it's there hovering in the back, ever-present, ever lurking. Ever grinning, sly and sharp. Like Ronan, whose POV is not featured in you either.
I've read you and The Dream Thieves, and I didn't remember where one of you ends and the next begins. So as I entered your climax, I was anxious to know how much would fit in the last 40 pages. How can so much happen in 40 pages? I had forgotten many things. But some details stick in my mind so vividly, they might as well be real.
Like
the Lynch vs Lynch parking lot fight
Adam's not shy quietness
the single white flower, to Blue, from Adam, can I still call?
Ronan and Chainsaw
Adam, eternally and obliviously elegant
Persephone, childlike and small and frocked with frills
"So many things survived here without really living."
Chapter 15
Calla and Ronan
"When Gansey was polite, it made him powerful. When Adam was polite, he was giving power away."
Noah petting Blue's hair
Adam's zero tolerance for pity
"'Maura,' Calla said, 'that was very rude.' Then she added, 'I liked it.'"
Ronan's ramp to the moon
MURDERED--Noah Czerny
the dreaming tree and Adam
trees speak Latin
TREES
boat shoes -_-
the fight in the Parrish front yard
the Transformer in the Fruit Loops box
"I sacrifice myself."--Adam Parrish
The things I didn't remember were just as wonderful and dreadful.
Like
how many people inhabit 300 Fox Way
"Tell me why we're negotiating with terrorist?"--Ronan Lynch
how observant Adam is
Blue thinking about manta rays and tyrant pygmies
"Am I invited?"--Adam Parrish
the impression of Gansey's journal
Ronan teaching Adam to drive a stick shift
Gansey doesn't believe in coincidences
the page of cups
"Safe as life."--Gansey
Gansey vs a wasp
"Don't throw it away."--Noah Czerny
Ronan's hatred for cellphones
Adam's fear of flying
Gansey as his mother's birthday present
"I'm always straight."--Ronan Lynch
Gansey cannot throw punches . . .
REMEMBERED--Ronan Lynch
Adam's left ear
"Excelsior"--Gansey
Noah, vaguely pleased to know things nobody else does
"to go home, to go home, to go home"
Ronan at the library??
Adam and Whelk
"Can we go home? This place is so creepy."--Noah Czerny
You inspire me to embrace both the awfulness and beauty of life. You make me think about time, how it works, how it doesn't work, how it could work. Most importantly, you made me realize how much happier I am now.
When I first read you, you were an ethereal fairytale, something unattainable, especially for someone sitting in a cardboard box. Now, I see you differently. Maybe I don't search high and low for dead Welsh kings or find myself in time-bending, Latin-speaking forests. But in you, I recognize my friends, our conspiracy of raven girls. You remind me that I haven't always had them and how amazing and different my life is with them in it. We recognize each others' strengths and faults, the lies we each tell ourselves. And we encourage each other to grow. We battle those lies together, taking up arms for our comrades. We're patience with our shortcomings. We wait for the other to "get it" and cover their back in the meantime. Because no matter what happens, we won't be taken away from each other. Our will to stay together is stronger than anything that would attempt to separate us.
In the end, you return home. I love the significance of that.
Thank you, Raven Boys.
