(Also posted on GoodReads.com.)

“Punishment”
What else would you call it?
I know girls who have sex every day
and walk away.
Me, I break God’s law once,
and look what it gets me. (121)

I received a copy of A Girl Named Mister through GoodReads.com’s FirstReads giveaway program. One point in this book’s favor: it is a quick and easy read. (I breezed through it in about two hours.) This is due to the fact that the book is written in verse, so even though it is 223 pages in length, consider the fact that about 50% of each page is clean white space.

This book is about an adolescent girl, Mary Rudine. (She is called Mister by her friends, from her initials M.R., thus the title of the novel. This fact has no importance, however, except to give the book a clever title.) Mary becomes pregnant at age 15. This is the premise of the novel (maybe more appropriately termed a novella because of its length) so it’s no spoiler. In fact, I found nothing really in the novella that was not surprising or a plot point that could not be derived from the basic plot. In short, the story was quite predictable: Good Christian girl gets tempted by guy who seems decent but just wants her for her body. Good Christian girl gives in to his desire for forbidden fruit just once and bam! She’s got a bun in the oven. Good Christian girl is torn apart by guilt, best friend’s rejection, etc. etc. etc.

Really, Nikki Grimes? Is this the best you can do?

I realize some people might be attracted to this work because of the unique fact that it is written entirely in verse. I like poetry sometimes. It depends on the author, the style, etc. I am by no means an expert on poetry. That being said, I found that Grimes’ poetry leaves much to be desired.

For one, the fact that the entire work is in verse makes the narrative poems weak and they might not have seemed as lacking were the narrative written in prose. For example, the poem/chapter “For Me” (page 20):

I’m not sure when it happened
but one Sunday I woke up
and for me,
church was mostly about
hanging out with friends
at God’s house.
And for the longest time,
that seemed to be enough.
After worship,
Mom would flash me a smile
that said “Good girl!”
as Seth and I trotted off to youth group.

I ask you: Is this a poem? Or is this simply a paragraph with random line breaks to give it the appearance of poetry? This is one of the struggles I have with poetry. It is a very subjective art, more so (in my opinion) than fiction. One person believes that a poem is the most amazing piece of art he has ever read, while his friend might find its imagery stale, its rhymes cliché, and its subject trite.

I did like some of Grimes’ poems/chapters, mostly the ones that were not narrative, but instead focused on emotions or moments in time. For example, “Restless” (page 21) is directly opposite to “For Me” and ten times better:

I turned the music
of the world
way up,
my feet itching to dance
to a new rhythm,
something other than
gospel.

See? Wasn’t that nice? Very evocative, great imagery with the dancing feet, and the idea of “the music of the world” was quite fresh. Unfortunately, the majority of the novella is made up of pieces more like “For Me” than “Restless.”

So, let’s say you like Grimes’ poetry, even the dry narrative bits. What else is A Girl Named Mister lacking?

Believable characters. May I start with how the character Trey left a bad taste in my mouth? And not because he tempted Mary away from God and violated the sacred temple of her body and all that. No. He pisses me off because he is so stereotypical and two-dimensional. You can push his character over like a cardboard cut-out. Example? Trey gets tired of the group dates Mary insists on and suggests that they “go on a real date,” just the two of them (29). What happens on this first date? “Before I know it, / his hand is rubbing my inner thigh, / racing toward my waist, / reaching underneath my —” (31).

I reiterate: really, Nikki Grimes? Is this the best you can do?

How stereotypical that this boy who “doesn’t go to church / but seems to like Christian kids” and “probably believes in God” (24) would try to get his hand in a girl’s pants on the very first date. Really? Can’t we give the poor kid the benefit of a doubt? Just for the sake of all the other decent boys out that there who don’t go to church, but still believe in God, and would respect a girl enough to wait at least a week before trying to get all touchy-feely.

Trey is not a character in this story. He is not a person. He is a MacGuffin: he exists only to spur the action onward.

The same can be said for Mary’s bff, Sethany. Sethany has no depth in the story except to be there to reject Mary after Mary has broken her promise to God to wait until marriage, and then to be there to accept Mary once again in a reminder of the infinite forgiveness of which God is capable.

And the character of LaVonne Taylor (105, 199-201)? Wow. Grimes just uses Taylor to remind her readers that abortion is bad and, if you are a good Christian, you won’t share “more than a superficial similarity” with people who would have abortions. Mary considers an abortion too, of course, since “she’s some / scared-crazy kid / entertaining fleeting notions / of throwing herself / down a long flight of stairs,” but she “know[s] / how God feels about that” (155). Taylor is just there to drive the point home and demonstrate how people who would have abortions are not people with whom you want to associate.

A large part of the novella is poetry about the Virgin Mary and her struggles. Surprise! They mostly mirror Mary’s! I found the majority to be unenlightening. One in particular bothered me, “Reflection” (66-67). In this poem, Mary decides she wants to view the holy sacrifices, something in which women traditionally have no part. Her father is flustered by this announcement and demands to her mother, “Speak to your daughter!” (67) Mary seems to tell her father this just to piss him off. Mary’s mother even notices this and is proud: “ ‘I see what joy it gives you / to frighten your father. / But I ask you, / why settle for being equal with men?’ ” (67) Really? We’re turning the Virgin Mary, mother of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, a woman who some people consider a saint, into an immature girl who is just trying to get a rise out of her father? People might view this as a moment of empowerment! Of feminism! Of asserting our natural place in the world next to men, not behind them! I would argue that Mary needs no embellishments. She is the mother of Christ. She’s got more clout there than any other walking uterus in the Bible. She bears her burden of motherhood to a savior, and later watching said savior, her son, be crucified, like a champ.

I could go on and on. I wouldn’t know where to stop. The ending, I guess, which, ugh. I have problems with that too.

However, I will try to end on a more positive note:

I believe Nikki Grimes wrote this for teenage girls who might be questioning their faith in God, whether they should adhere to the tradition of waiting until marriage to have sex, troubled Christian girls who have already made the mistake of having sex and are in a boat similar to Mary’s, or other adolescent issues that come up naturally in the course of a girl maturing into a woman.

I also believe that this novella will ultimately not help most girls with their concerns and questions. Like most experts recommend, if your son or daughter is troubled, or you suspect that they are, sitting down with them for a good long chat is your best bet to helping them out. No text can adequately substitute the love of a parent. And A Girl Named Mister ultimately supports this supposition. Though Mary gains much comfort from the fictional book of poetry Mary, Mary in her time of need, ultimately it is her mother who comes through for her, giving her a shoulder to cry on, and supporting her completely in her time of need.