Book review: Highly Illogical Behavior by John Corey Whaley

I don’t review every single book I read (though that might change; I’m considering joining Goodreads, a site I’ve relied on for years now), but seeing as how Highly Illogical Behavior has been nominated for the Lincoln Award, I thought I’d weigh in.

**WARNING: POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW.**

This is the first true YA novel I’ve been able to read in quite some time, and returning to the land of teen angst and drama and romanticism is oddly bittersweet. I’ve got mixed feelings about John Corey Whaley’s offering. On the one hand, it’s smartly written and features some memorable characters and an interesting moral dilemma: Is it wrong to help someone with mental illness heal if you have ulterior motives for doing so?

On the other hand, Highly Illogical Behavior suffers from several of the usual, well-worn YA tropes, including ones I wrote about in my previous post (read it here if you choose). Yet ANOTHER character with “sea-green eyes”! Since when are brown or blue eyes not good enough for a person to have? Darn special snowflakes…

Nitpicks aside, the big dramatic reveal (and the resulting relational drama and resolution) can be seen coming a mile away; it’s all rather frustratingly predictable, except maybe the ending. And perhaps the greatest turn-off to me was, surprisingly, the strange way in which the story was told.

Let’s start there. First, the bad…

Essentially, Behavior follows the tale of Solomon Reed, a teen who has agoraphobia, and his newfound friends Lisa Praytor (who wants to go into psychology, and begins a crusade to “fix” Sol…*cringe*) and her boyfriend, Clark. Set in Upland, California, Behavior is told in third person, but what’s jarring is the frequent usage of third-person omniscient. Instead of staying in Solomon’s head or Lisa’s, the story constantly jumps around to tell us (not show us) all the characters’ thoughts, feelings, and quirky traits and backgrounds. It bothered the heck out of me from the beginning, and I never really got used to it; I feel a restructuring of the POV would have been more effective.

I think John Corey Whaley tries very hard to adopt a certain old-timey narrative voice in the process, but I just don’t think he succeeds because his book tries to be too much. It spreads itself too thin trying to inform the reader about what everyone’s deal is, and the whole book suffers as a result. Too much telling and not enough showing robs the story of its adventure, its sense of the unknown and uncertain, and even our sense of identification with the character. (Much as I hate to say it, given YA’s obsession with first-person narrative, the use of third person in this book does impede reader intimacy with the characters.) Although the scenes depicting Sol’s panic attacks should have been powerful and compelling, to me they often fell flat. (And yes, I’ve experienced panic attacks before myself. Something about the way they were described in this book just didn’t seem genuine to me.) Sometimes I felt as if I were just reading the characters’ diaries or a plot summary of the book. Good start, but I want more than that!

To me, it also seems like John Corey Whaley has borrowed heavily from what we might call the John Green model. Quirky character(s) with weird names (often, a somewhat docile/nerdy male lead and a go-getter heroine), check. Teenagers who tend to speak a good deal more formally and intelligently than most normal people their age, check. An eventual spontaneous road trip, check.

And finally, this won’t bother many readers, but I have to say I’m a little tired of the bad rap that Christians always seem to get in fiction, especially YA and new adult books and TV shows. I know that it’s frequently deserved, but it’s just not an accurate portrayal of true Christianity in general and the many Christians who AREN’T shallow, self-righteous, cruel people. It hurts me that Janis (the sole “Christian” character) actually turned out to be the true villain of the story. Catty, manipulative, and gossipy, she was far worse than Lisa (the girl who deceived/manipulated her friends and, throughout the book, was using Sol as her personal “project” so she could have a feather in her cap that would get her into the psychology program). Gross.

But enough; I’m probably being too harsh with some of these criticisms. Now for the good…

Highly Illogical Behavior has some genuinely funny moments. The dialogue is snappy and generally clever throughout; it reveals the characters and helps advance the plot. The topics (mental illness, friendship IN ADDITION TO/INSTEAD OF romance and sex, LGBTQ+ discussion, and most importantly questions of ethics) are relevant to the YA audience and will be good to ponder, I think. I liked that the story was at least realistic in its telling of Sol’s struggles; the process of recovering from mental illness, especially a phobia, tends to be two steps forward, one step back. In fact, I could relate to all the characters in one way or another; though I was never crazy about Lisa’s view of things, I could see from her perspective. (If I were Lisa, though, I definitely wouldn’t cuss in a college application essay…)

Where Behavior really shines is its eventual message that it’s unhealthy and dishonest to have a relationship with someone for the purpose of “fixing” them. I think this alone makes it a worthy read: too many friendships and romantic relationships become codependent, ESPECIALLY when one of the parties suffers from a mental illness. And no matter how noble someone’s motives are for “fixing” someone, it’s just not the right approach; people end up hurt. I did love how Sol was treated normally by his friends, thereby emphasizing the need to treat those with mental illness like human beings.

I also have to give John Corey Whaley brownie points for not succumbing to the cliche of having his characters (particularly Clark, the good-looking and popular jock) drink, have sex, and otherwise participate in destructive activities that we’re told are now the “norm” for those still underage. Call me a stuffy old conservative, but I just think it’s nice to have some (wholesome) diversity in the way normal teen activities are described; contrary to popular belief, some of us DO like Star Trek and playing Monopoly and watching bad movies better than partying.

Overall, I’d peg this as an average YA novel; slightly above average for the characters and dialogue, but hindered too much by its awkward narrative style and stereotypical elements. Perhaps a bit more editing would have resolved its issues. I don’t have strong feelings one way or the other about its deserving the Lincoln Award; teens could do a lot worse than Highly Illogical Behavior.