Willow

Hoban's poignant and sometimes-disturbing novel centers on Willow, a teenage girl who copes with the death of her parents by repeatedly slicing her skin with razor blades. Even though this book ultimately becomes a gentle teenage love story, Willow's vivid descriptions of cutting herself and the depictions of her emotional mind-set during these moments provide the foundation of this novel. Kim Ulrich's voice naturally quivers and breaks frequently, characteristics that work well for Willow, a grief-stricken, insecure 17-year-old. However, utilizing more confident, mature-sounding voices for the adult characters and for Willow's boyfriend would have greatly enhanced this production. Overall, Ulrich is adept at giving voice to a teenager in crisis and describing the emotional complexities of cutting. Listeners should be prepared to hear graphic depictions of cutting and teenage sex, as well as mild profanity. A.R.H. (c) AudioFile 2009, Portland, Maine

April 20, 2009
Seven months after killing her parents in a car accident, 16-year-old Willow Randall has moved in with her married older brother's family in New York City, where she grapples with her overwhelming emotions, as well as her brother's silent anguish, by cutting herself with razors. When Guy, a fellow student, learns Willow's secret, they develop a tentative intimacy. The stark clarity of the present tense, third-person narration echoes the numbing effect that Willow achieves through cutting—“Of course any sharp edge could do in a pinch, and Willow has used them all: nail scissors, a steak knife, a man's razor.... But Willow is a purist.” Despite explicit descriptions of Willow's wounds, the narrative steers clear of moralization—cutting is characterized as part of Willow's fractured sense of self, rather than part of a larger epidemic. Though Guy mainly serves as a means for Willow to rediscover human connection, and is never as fully realized as she is, his need to understand the girl whose favorite book is Tristes Tropiques
but who carries razors in her backpack, is authentically tender. A credible depiction of a grieving girl's struggle toward self-forgiveness. Ages 14–up.