From the Publisher
“[Examines] at a high-school level the phenomenon of betrayal in the aid of self-preservation. What’s particularly interesting is that Gantos doesn’t let his victims off the hook either.” —The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“Gantos is explicit when demonstrating how a climate of fear and suspicion can be concocted in a community, and how insecure young people—gay, straight—can be tormented by it.” —Kirkus Reviews
“A tightly written first-person novel tells how 16-year-old Walker knows about the romance of two of his female classmates. While he understands the evil of intolerance—in this case homophobia in a rural community—he feels helpless, and tragedy ensues." —The New York Times Book Review
Publishers Weekly
- Publisher's Weekly
Walker, a pensive loner, avoids confrontation as much as possible-until the son of a fundamentalist preacher accuses him of being gay. Pressured by both religious fanatics and his peers, the 16-year-old points a finger at a pair of high school lesbians, Karen and Jennifer, hoping to shift attention away from himself. His act of betrayal puts an end to his own harassment, but causes irreparable damage to the girls. Gantos (Heads or Tails Stories from the Sixth Grade) projects an unsettling image of cowardice and survival of the toughest. There are no heroes in this story; even victims Karen and Jennifer act mercilessly, ridiculing Walker long before he speaks out against them. Although his language and ability to conjure a scene are frequently remarkable, the author reduces the players of this drama to near-stereotypes whose "desire lines" (chosen paths) are not all that different; in doing so he transmits a one-sided (and pessimistic) view of humanity. Readers may find a more balanced analysis of a modern-day witch hunt in Bette Greene's The Drowning of Stephan Jones. Ages 14-up. (Mar.)
Publishers Weekly
A pensive loner avoids confrontation as much as possible-until the son of a fundamentalist preacher accuses him of being gay. "Gantos's language and ability to conjure a scene are frequently remarkable," according to PW. Ages 12-up. (Apr.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
VOYA
- Nancy Zachary
Morals, values, sexual preference, and judgment are called into question when sixteen-year-old Walker unfolds his eerie narrative. As a teen in touch with nature, Walker is comforted by the familiar Florida golf course and duck pond near his home. It is here that he stumbles upon the secret sexual friendship between Karen and Jennifer. When Walker defines "desire lines" as living by one's gut feelings, the reader senses trouble. The local preacher directs his witch hunt at Walker, howling "homosexual," and the darker side of the human soul combines with an instinct for survival, forcing Walker to stir up a witch hunt of his own-securing favor with the local bullies. Deceit, slander, a violent death, and remorse propel this simply written plot, which makes a strong statement about taking responsibility for one's actions. Young adults will understand Walker's dilemmas and empathize with all of the characters. VOYA Codes: 3Q 3P M J S (Readable without serious defects, Will appeal with pushing, Middle School-defined as grades 6 to 8, Junior High-defined as grades 7 to 9 and Senior High-defined as grades 10 to 12).
School Library Journal
Gr 8 UpIn a novel presented as a first-person reminiscence, a discontented loner named Walker is openly disdainful of Christian zealots who cruise around his high school in a panel truck with speakers mounted on top, broadcasting their judgment of homosexuals and other "sinners." Angry at being rebuffed, one-note Preacher Boy queer-baits Walker, who's actually straight. This presents Walker with a dilemma because he secretly knows two girls from school use his favorite pond for romantic trysts. Walker resists the temptation to give up the real homosexuals through most of the book. When he finally outs them, as readers know he will, the lovers try to commit suicide together and one of them dies. Despite the certainty that the events will lead to a lifetime of regret for Walker, death and remorse seem to matter less than they should. As if the attempted suicide of lesbian lovers were not clichd enough, the surviving girl melodramatically accuses Walker of being a murderer. The characters simply aren't convincing enough or the author's rendering of the situation subtle enough to touch the heart. Francesca Lia Block's bittersweet Baby Be-Bop (1995) and M. E. Kerr's masterful Deliver Us from Evie (1994, both HarperCollins) do a better job of outing homophobia.Claudia Morrow, Berkeley Public Library, CA
