Set in Montreal in the 1980s, it is the first-person account of 12-year-old Baby (yes, that's her real name, stay with me), a precocious, wise-cracking little thug who lives in seedy apartments with her junkie dad Jules.
Baby, being an adolescent with no guidance or structure, except for her somewhat regular attendance at school, gets herself in all sorts of shenanigans, often with terrifying consequences.
So what makes this novel different from all the other tragic coming of age stories of children growing up amid chaos, mental illness and extreme poverty? Well, for one, it is so genuinely funny and entertaining that I read it in two sittings. The dismal, alarming plot twists are interspersed with hilariously accurate observations about narcissistic prostitutes, eccentric street urchins, cut-and-paste social workers, and lonely drug dealers. Baby's voice, though distinctly infused with Heather O'Neill's rich, adult vocabulary and fluid syntax is nevertheless believable because it is so remarkably child-like in its expression.
O'Neill, from what I can tell, knows the streets. I don't think she could have written the book without some first-hand knowledge of its truth and consequences. During the 1980s, she lived alone with her dad and sisters in the seedy but magical red light district of Montreal. She is therefore able to recount and create with a startling honesty and accuracy both the realities of parental instability and the fantasies and resilience of a child's imagination. The result is a book that both breaks your heart and forces you to marvel at the unique coping mechanisms of the human mind and body to endure unbelievable trauma and humiliation. An outstanding debut.
"I don't know why I was upset about not being an adult. It was right around the corner. Becoming a child again is what is impossible. That's what you have a legitimate reason to be upset over. Childhood is the most valuable thing that's taken away from you in life, if you think about it."
