The Twelve-Fingered Boy by John Hornor Jacobs
Release Date: February 1, 2013
Source: ARC
Pre-Order: Powell’s || Amazon
Fifteen-year-old fast-talking Shreve doesn’t mind juvie. He’s good at dealing contraband candy, and three meals a day is more than his drunk mother provided. In juvie, the rules never change and everyone is the same. In juvie, Shreve has life figured out.
So when he’s assigned a strangely silent and vulnerable new cellmate, Jack, Shreve takes the younger boy under his wing. But all Shreve’s plans and schemes unravel when he discovers Jack is different. For one thing, Jack has six fingers per hand. For another thing, he just might have superpowers.
Soon Jack has drawn the attention of the cellblock bullies as well as the mysterious and chilling Mr. Quincrux—who claims to be from the Department of Health and Human Services. But when Shreve feels Quincrux invade his mind and shuffle through his darkest memories, he knows Quincrux’s interest in Jack is far more sinister. Mr. Quincrux means to take Jack away. For what purposes, no one knows.
But Shreve has another plan: escape. — Goodreads
In a nutshell: Two boys with special abilities escape juvie and find trouble. Like, trouble other than being two boys who escaped from juvie.
Main Character: Shreveport Justice Cannon. That’s for real his name and I don’t even mind it. When you hear him talk about his drunk mother and his baby brother Ferrous Vigor (again: for real.) you probably won’t mind it either. Shreve’s narrative voice is what essentially sold me in favor of this book. He’s both smart and dumb the way only a 15-year old boy can be. He’s dirty and rough around the edges. He thrives in juvie because it is a system and a routine and a guarantee he never had living on the outside with a drunk for a mom.
I liked him a lot. He showed character growth even as he continued to do “bad” things. He preserved his life and the life of the second main character, Jack. We don’t get to know Jack as well as Shreve, but because Shreve loves him, you can’t help but feel affection toward the twelve-fingered boy.
Both of them find that they have some special abilities and I like what that opened up the story to explore. The right and the wrong of using these abilities, and what it meant about them as people and “fitting in.”
Love Interest? Hardly. Shreve was dating a girl named Coco before he was sentenced to juvie. She’s mentioned a few times, usually when he’s remembering his past, but she isn’t a major character and their romance isn’t a major factor.
Negligent Parents? In spades. Shreve’s mother is an alcoholic. Before juvie he spends his time caring after her and his baby brother. During juvie, she never visits or writes. It’s not even the “ha ha ha, your parents are totally unaware” sort of negligent parent, but the for real, super sad, legit sort of negligent parent. Depressing.
Ho Suspension? Nope! Not a ton of action in juvie.
A+: In all, this was a fast and easy read. John Hornor Jacbos writes with eloquent simplicity. It’s one of my favorite styles of narrative: stripped down, not overloaded with descriptions, laced with life truths that feel like cold, hard facts. This is the way it is. This is the way it’s always been. Although it might pretend to be an action centered novel,The Twelve-Fingered Boy more reminded me of introspective, contemporary YA. It was propelled more by the characters than the action.
It felt like a snapshot, really. The few weeks from when Jack comes to juvie to the point at the end are described. If they play a game, we’re told that. If they ride a bus, we’re told that. These sort of events don’t really do anything to drive the plot, because in essence the plot is just a faithful telling of what happened to these boys during that period of time. I’m hoping that makes sense.
Fail: The fast pace of the novel meant it was easy to read, but it also cheapened some of the darker elements of the story. Some very serious things happen in the plot, but they sometimes feel a little cartoonish. The style of the book doesn’t lend itself to properly carrying themes like kidnapping and pedophilia. It didn’t help that Mr. Quincrux felt like a one dimensional villain for most of the book. It was too much mustache-twirling sort of evil.
The End: I was for real worried about the safety of these two boys. I won’t tell you how it ends, and it wasn’t entirely surprising, but it felt okay. Just enough resolution and just a little of that “not all is happily ever after,” YA authors seem to enjoy now-a-days.
And so: I don’t think everyone would enjoy this as much as I did. I happen to have a soft spot for rough-around-the-edges, male narrative. You can probably blame The Outsiders. While not perfect, I can’t imagine why anyone would regret reading this. It can be done in one sitting on a Saturday afternoon while ignoring things like “people” and “real life.” Trust me, I know that from experience.
For Traumateers who love: The Chaos Walking Trilogy, introspective contemporary YA
Final Grade: B
