Maybe this would work for me if all the characters were prairie dogs, maybe not

6. Saint Iggy – K.L. Going

I’m going to spoil the ending of this book in my review. Saint Iggy paints a very interesting picture of poverty, imagination, and how people of different classes relate to each other. It also has one of those rich kids playing at being a starving artist because he’s more interested in drugs and vaguely rebelling against his mother’s tacit acceptance of an affair than dropping the bullshit pretense and realizing that some random sixteen year old who actually has to stay in a horrible living situation is looking to him as a role model so he could at least be thankful that he has the option to choose where he lives and that his mother is present and accounted for in a warm, comfortable home that he rejects. He’s also following along the course of a mounting addiction to drugs. And that mother, of course, takes in Iggy and they watch It’s a Wonderful Life and then, also of course, she takes him shopping and for a haircut because she can’t relate to her son, and also also of course, Iggy has to die. Because if poor people don’t die, rich people don’t learn any lessons. Or something. This hit me a bit more not than the author’s potential point because of the always-there variables (like rich people who “save” the poor people and therefore make themselves feel better); although Iggy’s running narrative seemed very true-to-teenager and there was a theme about being able to contribute to society and do something “good” no matter who you are. Iggy was looking for anything to distract him from his reality, entertained some delusions of changing the world, and then he died so his contribution could be martyrdom. Again I say, or something.

Ozymandias needs to stop romanticizing what it would be like to jump off the back of my fifties chair. Losing a tooth isn’t worth the fleeting moments of joy and total confusion in the air.

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