WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW
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| “They were scavengers feeding off others, obsessed with lives that were not their own.”- John Belushi Is Dead, Kathy Charles |
IN THE END WE ALL FADE TO BLACK.
Pink-haired Hilda and oddball loner Benji are not your typical teenagers. Instead of going to parties or hanging out at the mall, they comb the city streets and suburban culs-de-sac of Los Angeles for sites of celebrity murder and suicide. Bound by their interest in the macabre, Hilda and Benji neglect their schoolwork and their social lives in favor of prowling the most notorious crime scenes in Hollywood history and collecting odd mementos of celebrity death.
Hilda and Benji's morbid pastime takes an unexpected turn when they meet Hank, the elderly, reclusive tenant of a dilapidated Echo Park apartment where a silent movie star once stabbed himself to death with a pair of scissors. Hilda feels a strange connection with Hank and comes to care deeply for her paranoid new friend as they watch old movies together and chat the sweltering afternoons away. But when Hank's downstairs neighbor Jake, a handsome screenwriter, inserts himself into the equation and begins to hint at Hank's terrible secrets, Hilda must decide what it is she's come to Echo Park searching for . . . and whether her fascination with death is worth missing out on life.
I have a very strong morbid streak. I love reading books that have to do with funeral homes, I love watching ID channel shows or reading books about murder, and no vacation is complete without visiting at least one cemetery.
Despite this, I have no interest in death tourism and no real desire to see a dead body. I mean, sure, I took pictures of the Mercer House in Savannah, but that house has so much more history behind it than just being the house where Jim Williams shot Danny. It's not like I was deliberately going out to Kansas to take pictures of the Clutter house (which is still standing, believe it or not) and I definitely don't look at dead pictures of celebrities online because that just seems disrespectful to me. Also, it reminds me of this ID channel show where this woman became obsessed with death and watching videos of people hanging herself after her boyfriend killed himself. She ended up going on a three day shooting spree.
Still, I went into this book interested in the subject matter and expecting some of my favorite brand of jet black humor. For the first few chapters, I was enjoying myself. The writing wasn't great, but the book set itself up pretty well and I liked the Harold and Maude references because that's one of my favorite movies ever. But at the same time, I was a little put off by the overwhelming Edgy Tumblr Teen vibe I got from the main characters. And especially the romanticizing of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, mostly because it reminded me of the disgusting true crime "enthusiasts" on Tumblr who spend their spare time photo-shopping flower crowns on their heads and writing gay fanfiction about the two of them being together and generally just making most true crime fans look bad. I mean, seriously, read Columbine by Dave Cullen and get back to me. So yeah, not too fond of the edgy teen myself.
But Harold and Maude. And Bukowski, and Tom Waits, and basically all these references to things I love that don't get referenced like ever in fiction. Especially Harold and Maude. Of course, if you've seen Harold and Maude, than you've basically read this book. I mean, sure, some things were changed, the genders were swapped, there is no relationship between Hilda and Hank, he's a bit gruffer than Maude, etc, but the core message of the book is basically the same message as the movie. Of course, I did wonder how Hilda watched and loved the movie and didn't get the whole symbolically driving the Jag-Hearse off the cliff moment at the end. The message of how can you be so young and so obsessed with death when there's so much to love about life. I mean, sure, the humor of the movie is based around Harold staging his own suicides, even if there is a lot of really funny absurdist moments, but it made me wonder if we even watched the same movie.
Also, the writing wasn't that... good. Hate to say it, but I got a Mary Sue fanfiction vibe. Especially the main character. Her opinions, inner narrative, etc, just seemed very clunky and set my teeth a little on edge. And the love interest just plain sucked. I hated their "flirty banter" and not once did it get a laugh out of me. In fact, I wished the book was a lot funny or had a darker sense of humor than what it ended up being. The actual humor is very typical YA quirky commentary which almost never gets a laugh out of me. Hilda also seemed like she had no real character, like everything about her was subject to change if the plot demanded it, if that makes sense. I don't think she was a particular strong character.
There is also a certain lack of subtlety that got to me. Especially the Connor family. Like, the mom is this extreme parody of a fifties mom and the dad is absent and Benji's basically a caricature of an edgy teen. And I don't think this book aged very well. The problem with writing a Hollywood themed book is that a book can feel dated very quickly with all the pop culture references. I suppose this book is supposed to take place in like 2004ish, even though it was published in 2009, based on all the Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Lindsay Lohan references (oh, the days when bleached blond Barbie dolls ruled Hollywood!).
So why did I persist on liking this book? Because I genuinely like the message behind it and think it's one very rarely told in YA. That it's okay to be mainstream and like the same things mainstream people like. It's okay to have Smells Like Teen Spirit be your favorite Nirvana song, it's okay to not want to have pink hair and work at a normal place and watch movies instead of looking for places people have died. In a world of relentlessly quirky protagonists, it's nice to have one who can be on the mainstream side.
This review was everywhere and I apologize for that. In the end, I just don't have much to say about John Belushi Is Dead. It's a solid 8 out of 10 book, or a solid four stars. I liked it just fine, was even impressed by it at some points, and it is a wholly original story. That being said, I thought going in that this would be my new favorite YA contemporary. And it just isn't as special as I thought it would be.
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