The Great American Whatever

Funny, heartbreaking, filled with teen angst, Tim Federle’s book made me a teenager again in the most bittersweet way. Quinn Roberts reveals himself to the reader bit by bit, and as the camera metaphorically pulls back, and we gradually see the big picture, we appreciate the tender, damaged resilience of this young man.To some degree, all teen novels must be voyages of self-discovery. This book is no exception, but Federle’s wonderful writing and Quinn’s wry, endearing personality offer an intense reminder of what, to some degree, we all went through to survive into adulthood.Quinn is gay, but that fact is more of an annoyance to him than a trauma. “It just seems like such a hassle to come out. I want to just be out.” Problem is, he’s still trying to cope with the sudden, tragic death of his sister Annabeth, which has thrown a monkey wrench into his family’s ability to cope. Fortunately, Tim has Geoff, his best friend forever. Geoff is the catalyst who ignites the sparks that set the ball rolling, as it were. Geoff is a remarkable character, and Quinn knows it as much as we do.I don’t want to give things away. It’s not a long book, but it’s superbly crafted to wring every possible emotion out of us. I surely thought of Stephen Chbosky’s “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” as I read this, but of course here the gay kid is the centerpiece, and to me that makes all the difference.“The Great American Whatever” is unquestionably one of the best YA novels I’ve read. It touched me deeply and made me envious of Federle’s gift as a writer.

One of the latest YA novels to tell the tempestuous and angsty but ultimately affirming tale of adolescent coming out, Tim Federle’s *The Great American Whatever* problematizes the romantic notion of 21st-century queer affirmation by complicating the protagonist’s sexual identity development with grief over the death of his older sister and managing his own control issues.Quinn Roberts—sometimes called “Win” (a clear signifier of his eventual triumph) by his late sister and his new paramour—aspires to be a successful Hollywood screenwriter. After his childhood crush and former babysitter shared with him the formula for successfully crafting an epic heroic adventure (which nearly replicates Joseph Campbell’s monomyth paradigm), Quinn collaborated with his sister Annabeth on a number of quirky independent films. He also casts himself as the hero of his own life and imagines life itself as a screenplay that he has the power to control. The people with whom he interacts are “scene partners.” He doesn’t engage in conversation; he speaks scripted dialogue. He even renders parts of his first-person narrative as movie scenes complete with dialogue, set descriptions, and stage directions.As he struggles to cope with his sister’s untimely death (for which he at least partially blames himself), he also tries to help his mother come to terms with the loss (his father abandoned them long ago) as he discovers the limits of just how well he knows his best friend. And he’s falling in love for the first time.Federle depicts these events with all of the sweet innocence and snide frustration that so deftly characterize adolescence. Although the novel tackles some heavy issues—coming out, the death of a loved one, first love, virginity (and the loss thereof)—it never feels particularly heavy. The novel’s sole weakness might be the blithe spirit with which it regards profound developmental aspects of maturity and sexuality, but its many attributes more than compensate for that.

I don't read YA that frequently, it can be a little formulaic. And while in many ways this book sticks to the themes of every coming of age tale that has come before, it's done so well by Tim Federle I don't even care. It's a quick read, but perfectly paced with just the right amount of humor to offset the tragedy, and just the right amount of realism to offset all the standard YA tropes.I'd highly recommend if you are interested in any of the following: YA fiction, Pittsburgh, film making, gay protagonists (where sexuality is not the main source of conflict or angst), coming of age stories, The Perks of Being a Wildflower (it's an easy comparison to make. I'll be honest though, I think I like The Great American Whatever more.)

I've read a lot of gay novels lately, mostly escapist M/M romances. I mean, I have standards. They have to be well-written, like Josh Lanyon or Brad Vance. It can't be just endless sex scenes strung together with a paper thin plot. But this. This is an entire level altogether. This isn't M/M. It is a novel with a gay protagonist. I could recommend this to any of my friends without any embarrassment. In fact,I think I will. One review compared this to Catcher in the Rye. And the comparison is completely valid. Honestly, it might be better. If I were teaching high school English, I would certainly have them read this and not that. But don't think because it is good that it is not fun. It is. There's a lot to think about but there is a lot of fun, too. So try it. And, Tim Federle, well done.

When I read the summary I was expecting a completely different story than what I got. I'm not one of those people that complains when a character grieves "too much". I think it's realistic to have various kinds of grief represented in stories. What bothered me was how self centered Quinn was. He acted like his grief was more important than everyone else's. Add to that how he kept insulting Geoff in his mind the entire story and he was nothing but kind and loyal to him. It was frustrating.Another thing I didn't like was how his being gay felt like an afterthought. I didn't really believe it is what I'm trying to say. And his relationship with Amir just felt incredibly fake. I couldn't even buy them as friends. Amir was nice but I just wasn't feeling them.But what I did appreciate besides Geoff was how Quinn's grief was handled. I truly felt for him and his loss. He said some really intelligent stuff about his feelings and how he described them.

At one level, this is the classic teenage gay coming out story.Sixteen year old boy, who is clever and cute but clutzy, tells his story (and that of his straight best friend who has always known his pal is gay but hasn't let on) in an amusing "aw shucks" way. There is quote a genre of books like this and they are, if they are as well written as this one is, entertaining and touching. This one, however, touches on deeper emotions for, at the centre of it, is the death months earlier in a car accident of the narrator's older sister. So, much of the book is about the struggle to cope with grief and to achieve a semblance of normality in a world turned upside down. And Federle does this with a tear-jerking power which raises this book above the ordinary and merely charming. Oh,and the narrator is a movie maker and fanatic, so you have to get with the programme.

A fabulous read that I powered through. Anyone looking for gay fiction which isn't *just* about the sex, this is a story with depth, interesting characters and many relatable and emotional moments.

An existential tour-de-force, vivid, daunting, and joyous. Wilhelm von Rosen, Copenhagen

In der (amerikanischen) YA-Literatur werden kaum Probleme ausgespart. Was kein Kritikpunkt ist, absolut nicht. Tim Federle allerdings überschüttet seinen Protagonisten, den 17-jährigen Quinn, mit dramatischen Lebensumständen und schwierigen Situationen. Und das ist durchaus ein Kritikpunkt. Es scheint, als wolle der Autor auf Nummer sicher gehen und wirklich nichts auslassen, was irgendwie ein relevantes Thema für einen young adult Roman sein könnte:Quinns Vater hat die Famile verlassen, als seine Frau vierzig wurde. Es gibt keinen Kontakt mehr - und auch kein Geld. Die Mutter ist adipös. Die Schwester, die wie ein Zwilling für Quinn war, ist erst vor einem halbern Jahr bei einem Autounfall ums Leben gekommen. Seitdem haben weder Quinn noch seine Mutter das Haus verlassen. Quinn ist schon immer ein Einzelgänger gewesen, der Filme aus einer Ära liebt, die lange vor seiner Geburt lag. Er hat nur einen einzigen Freund, mit dem es im Laufe des Buches zu einem Vertrauensbruch kommt. UND Quinn ist außerdem schwul, aber noch nicht out and proud und auf der Suche nach dem ersten Mal...Jedes Thema für sich ist Stoff für einen guten Roman, der, ja, selbst bei den düstersten Aspekten wie dem langen Prozess der Trauerbewältigung, auch witzig sein darf. Aber bei dieser Überfülle an Themen hatte ich schnell das Gefühl - das wohl nicht ausbleiben konnte - dies alles irgendwo schon einmal gelesen zu haben, und origineller (das reicht bis zu den Personen: Quinns Freund Geoff, ein echtes Unikum, ähnelt in vielem den besten Freunden bei John Green...)Es kann wohl auch nicht ausbleiben, dass die Aufmerksamkeit, die der Autor den einzelnen Aspekten zukommen lässt, sehr unterschiedlich proportioniert ist. Ein Leser, der z.B. Quinns Leidenschaft für Filmklassiker nicht teilt, wird die Seiten und Seiten, in denen es um dieses Thema geht, etwa um die Schließung eines altehrwüridgen, aber heruntergekommenen Programmkinos, nicht sonderlich interessant und recht lang finden. Es gibt, was immerhin ganz auflockernd wirkt, Szenen, die wie ein Drehbuch geschrieben sind und die der gleichen Szene in der Realität parodierend gegenübergestellt werden. Diese Drehbuch-Szenen sind dann absichtlich ziemlich schlecht. Witzig ist das, aber gleichzeitig bekommt man Zweifel, ob Quinn eigentlich tatsächlich auch gute Drehbücher schreiben kann, wie Federle den Leser eindrücklich glauben machen will.Natürlich nimmt auch Quinns Suche nach einem ersten sexuellen Kontakt großen Raum ein. Bezeichnend für Federles gesamtes Buch ist, dass dann, als es soweit ist, die Sache ziemlich schnell abgehandelt wird, so kann man es wohl nennen, und weder beim Leser noch beim Protagonisten sonderlich viel Eindruck hinterlässt. Das gleiche gilt für Quinns coming out. Wie dieser alles andere als leichte Schritt durch einen Autor behandelt wird, halte ich immer für einen entscheidenden Punkt in Büchern mit einem LGBT-Aspekt. Schließlich ist dieses Thema für viele Jugendliche noch immer mit viel Angst verbunden. Angst vor Spott oder davor, von "Freunden" oder von Familien fallen gelassen zu werden. Offenbar hat auch Quinn lange mit der Frage gerungen, wie er es seinem Freund Geoff und seiner nicht besonders fortschrittlichen Mutti erzählt. Und dann, schwupp, ein einziger Satz, und die Sache ist geklärt. Das soll wohl das Signal setzen, dass sexuelle Orientierung heutzutage kein Problem mehr sein sollte und die Umwelt meistens toleranter reagiert, als befürchtet (im idealen Fall). Aber so, wie Federle es hier macht, wirkt es eben wiederum einfach nur kurz abgehandelt. Und dies gilt schließlich auch für den ganzen letzten Teil des Buches. Natürlich muss Quinn am Ende seine Probleme aufräumen und zurück ins Leben finden - dies ist ein sehr amerikanisches Buch, an dessen Ende eine Wendung ins Positive steht (wiederum: kein Kritikpunkt). Aber auch hier: dies wird ruckzuck und schnurgerade dahin erzählt. Am Ende hatte ich den Eindruck, Federle wollte nun wirklich langsam, oder besser gesagt, recht zügig, zum Schluss kommen, Vielleich, weil er seinen eigenen Protagonisten und dessen Ich-Bezogenheit nicht mehr ausstehen konnte?Nett zu lesen (und außerdem eine Liebeserklärung an Pittsburgh was nicht so häufig vorkommt), aber wenn man schon einiges an YA-Literatur der letzten fünf oder zehn Jahre kennt, kann man "The Great American Whatever" auch auslassen. Man wird nichts wirklich Neues darin entdecken können.

Started out slow but picked up near the middle. An okay book, but I had trouble connecting with the main character.