Jellicoe Road I've been scouring shelves to find anything I can of Melina Marchetta. It's only the second book of hers I've read, but I can guarantee you this, it's not the last.
Oddly enough, I wasn't constantly thinking about Jellicoe Road when reading this one (although that book is fabulous in and of itself). I fell in love with Josie and her story so much I was swallowed whole.
I loved Josie. I loved her spunk, her dramatics, her narration, her everything. I loved her pride and embarrassment of her loud, passionate Italian family and Her love/hate relationship with her grandma.
Jacob Coote was more than just a heart throb and I loved how stubborn and opposite both Josie and he could be, and yet how they fit so perfectly.
John Barton had a special place in my heart, and his story nearly brought me to tears.
Josie's growth in this book felt so real. When she and some friends ditched a school walkathon, leaving all the year 7 kids without anyone to watch them, she was scolded and punished by one of the sisters at the school. While her friends were reassuring her that what she did was "no big deal" Josie thought
I was wrong, I thought to myself. I honestly believed it. Not because Sister Louise told me or because she made me believe I was. I knew deep down that I was wrong and I think that my emancipation began at that moment.
I was determined to hate her father that left her young pregnant mother, all those years ago. But yet he too found a special place in my hear.
But the best thing about living with him was that he snored. Remember how I said that nighttime scares me a lot because I feel as if everyone could be dead? Well, just being able to hear Michael snoring made the nighttime sound so alive. Sometimes I'd just lie in bed grinning. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I really felt as if I had a father. I didn't realize how much it would mean to me.
Marchetta is brilliant in this book. I can't believe this was her debut novel. There is so much packed into this relatively small book that is executed so beautifully you can't help but love it.
We had confession on Friday. We have it once a term. It's the same thing every time. I sit there mumbling to myself because I usually forget the "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned" bit. Once I get over that I go through my sins. The same ones every time.
I was disrespectful to my mother and grandmother.
I've been lazy.
I've been selfish.
Once, last year, I started going through my sins and Father Stephen said, "Oh, it's your, Josie."
Can you believe it? He recognized me by my sins. I'm so boring that I can't even change my sins from term to term.
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