August Pullman was born with a facial deformity that,
up until now, has prevented him from going to a mainstream school. Starting 5th
grade at Beecher Prep, he wants nothing more than to be treated as an ordinary
kid—but his new classmates can’t get past Auggie’s extraordinary face. WONDER, now a New York Times bestseller, begins from Auggie’s
point of view, but soon switches to include his classmates, his sister, her
boyfriend, and others. These perspectives converge in a portrait of one
community’s struggle with empathy, compassion, and acceptance.
In a world where bullying among young people is an epidemic,
this is a refreshing new narrative full of heart and hope. R.J. Palacio has
called her debut novel “a meditation on kindness” —indeed, every reader will
come away with a greater appreciation for the simple courage of friendship.
Auggie is a hero to root for, a diamond in the rough who proves that you can’t blend in when you were born to stand out.
R.J.Palacio (author)
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably
worse,” he says of his face as the book begins. He’s used to the stares and
mean comments, but he’s still terrified to learn that his parents have gotten
him into middle school at Beecher Prep and want him to go there rather than be
home-schooled. But they persuade him to give it a try — and by the time this
rich and memorable first novel by R. J. Palacio is over, it’s not just Auggie
but everyone around him who has changed.
Stories
about unusual children who long to fit in can be particularly wrenching. At
their core lurks a kind of loneliness that stirs primal fears of abandonment
and isolation. But Palacio gives Auggie a counterweight to his problems: He has
the kind of warm and loving family many “normal” children lack. Among their —
and the book’s — many strengths, the Pullmans share the, um, earthy sense of
humor that all kids love. Over the years his parents, Nate and Isabel, have
turned the disturbing story of Auggie’s birth into high comedy involving a
flatulent nurse who fainted at the sight of him, and they persuade him to go to
Beecher by riffing hilariously on the name of the school’s director, Mr. Tushman.
It also helps that the Pullmans’ world — they live in a town house in “the
hippie-stroller capital of upper Upper Manhattan” — is the privileged, educated
upper-middle class, that hotbed of parents who hover and micromanage the lives
of their perfectly fine children. It’s somehow weirdly satisfying to see what
happens when something actually alarming enters this zone of needless anxiety.
Palacio carves a wise and refreshing path, suggesting that while even a kid
like August has to be set free to experience the struggles of life, the right
type of closeness between parents and children is a transformative force for
good.
But
it’s Auggie and the rest of the children who are the real heart of “Wonder,”
and Palacio captures the voices of girls and boys, fifth graders and teenagers,
with equal skill, switching narrators every few chapters to include Auggie’s
friends and his teenage sister, Via, who wrestles with her resentment, guilt
and concern. “We circle around him like he’s still the baby he used to be,” she
observes ruefully. And we see the vicious politics of fifth-grade popularity
played out as the class bully targets Auggie and starts a campaign to shun him,
culminating in an overnight school trip that turns scary and shuffles the
social deck in ways no one could have imagined.
While I
sobbed several times during “Wonder,” my 9-year-old daughter — who loved the
book and has been pressing it on her friends — remained dry-eyed. She didn’t
understand why I thought Auggie’s situation might upset her. “I like kids who
are different,” she said. I realized that what makes her cry are stories in
which children suffer because they have missing or neglectful parents and no
one to take care of them. Perhaps Palacio’s most remarkable trick is leaving us
with the impression that Auggie’s problems are surmountable in all the ways
that count — that he is, in fact, in an enviable position.
Maria
Russo from The New York Times
