Page 45 Review by Stephen
"Those guys, you know, they're not really my friends. I hang out with them now and then because Marco used to play D&D with me in middle school, but now..."
"I know. Sometimes I wonder about my friends, too. I don't even know who they are any more, really."
But then Ivy hasn't really been paying attention. She's been distracted.
Recommended by GRAY HORSES' Hope Larson, and I can see exactly why. Just as CHIGGERS' dealt not only with the bonds of young friendship but also the pain when it becomes competitive or treacherous, this too explores of a group of teens, a few years older, thinking ahead to college and so already on their way to diverging geographically. But some are already growing apart as they discover new things about themselves and each other that shifts the focus of their natural sympathies and therefore loyalties. Trapped in an environment they've outgrown, tempers boil over, harsh words are said and small fallings-out inevitably stack up into larger grudges or mutual hostility. Plus our protagonist is several sketches short of a full portfolio when it comes to being lovable herself.
Ivy is an aspiring artist, but her mother's determined she'll go to business school and learn skills more likely to earn her a steady income instead. It's understandable given her mother's own circumstances, abandoned by a husband in search of his dreams, but there's no give, just take, and Ivy has to get her mother's signature forged for permission to visit a Boston campus and then apply to an art college in secret. Meanwhile she spends most of her time resenting the talent of a fellow student, seething with jealousy at any friends' experiences not shared with herself, and perceiving slights almost everywhere when none were intended. Even when Brad's beaten by his Dad, Ivy's more interested in why Marisa knew first.
But then everything changes when at the end of the Boston trip, dejected by all the rejections, Ivy bumps into an eighteen-year-old boy whose bag badges intrigue her ("Partnership for a Workfree Drugplace") and, exchanged letters later, it's not long before Josh comes to visit and they share an afternoon down by derelict railway overpass which Ivy's made her own personal sanctuary then ducking in the woods from the rain.
"This is great! I can't see any houses or buildings from here. We could be living at any point in time right now, any place in history."
"We're completely outside of society!"
"Like exiles, cast to the wolves. We'll live as primitives!"
"We'll become like the wolves to survive."
Unfortunately what seems so liberating as a spontaneous joke doesn't live up to the dream in reality, and their early illusion that these two metaphorical orphans sheltering from the storm have somehow bonded instantly and know everything about each other in one afternoon is shattered when old patterns repeat themselves on the road, and Ivy is in for a very rude awakening. But after burning so many bridges at home, are there any options left for Ivy at all?
Well, I'm impressed. I'm impressed by the delicate art with its line, compositions and tone. Obviously I'm impressed with the leaves with blow through the introduction then spread out between chapters. But more than anything, I'm impressed with the recollection and observation here and I can tick so many of the boxes as both the offending party and the aggrieved. If only we could all look at ourselves with such clarity when we need to the most.
On a single cautionary note, please be warned that, unlike Hope's own material so far, there are moments - and one visual in particular - which make this unsuitable for school libraries. Not unsuitable for older teens, but schools could run into trouble. Just trying to be responsible.
