I read a book from my unread library. I don’t know what possessed me to pick a book from the dozens and dozens of books I have collecting dust in my bookcases when I could have gone and spent money on three books, only one of which I’d read. I broke my system for a book about being different.
The House of Tomorrow is a book I bought two years ago on Rachel’s recommendation. I couldn’t resist a book that hit upon favorites like coming of age, punk music, clever dialogue, and teenage boys. Here is where I make clear that I enjoy reading about teenage boys circumventing that awkward man-boy phase and gaining a sense of identity because I am the mother of two boys. I don’t like reading about teenage boys because I’m on the prowl.
This is a story about misfits. Sebastian lives in a geodesic dome with his intelligent and eccentric grandmother, who is obsessed with the deceased geodesic designer and futurist, Buckminster Fuller. Thanks to a convenient coincidence, he meets Jared Whitcomb, an angry boy with a serious medical condition and passion for punk music.
Sebastian’s grandmother listens to a CDs of whale songs of the Pacific, so Sebastian his first experience with punk rockers, the ultimate misfits of society, is visceral.
This time Jared went to his closet an took out a hard black plastic case. He unbuckled it and pulled out a dark blue guitar shaped like an upside-down V. I have never seen anything resembling it. It gleamed. On the side of the strings were thin airbrushed lightning bolts. He set the guitar in my hands.
“Be careful,” he said. “Don’t drop it.”
The plastic was cold in my hands. I gripped the neck and let the V sit across my legs. He went to the closet and pulled out a small amplifier and a cord.
“You are now holding probably the most badass ax ever,” he said.
He plugged everything in and a small hum escaped the amplifier when he flicked it on. “It has dual-fucking-humbuckers,” he continued, “a compound-radius fingerboard, and twenty-four jumbo frets. It will, if played right, melt your face off.”
“Do you play it at church?” I asked.
“Hell no, I do not play it at church,” he said. “It would probably piss off God so much, he’d have to blow up the chapel or something.”
While he spoke he arranged the fingers of my left hand on the hard metal strings. He pressed my fingers down once they were in place, and a pain shot through my hand.
Sebastian and Jared form a punk band and live for the present. Jared’s mother and sister are stuck in the past. Sebastian’s grandmother looks only to the future. They struggle to determine where, and if, they can meet in the middle.
I’m still not sure if this is a young adult book. In the US, I think the fact the main characters are teenagers automatically makes it young adult. The language pushes it firmly into the upper end of high school. If you object to harsh language in teen books, you’d probably consider this a book for adults.
I can’t call it a book for adults because the plot is formulaic. It follows a typical young adult trajectory, but that didn’t diminish my enjoyment of the book. Yes, I knew what was going to happen. Yes, I could predict who was going to say what. This isn’t a book that stole my breath, but it made me laugh out loud. I wasn’t surprised, but the predictability didn’t offend me. The characters might have been one dimensional, but they played their parts well. This book was great for what it was, and while that sounds like a backhanded compliment, it’s the same way I would describe every John Hughes movie ever made. In the end, who doesn’t like John Hughes?
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