Here’s an important message to all of the people who made this selection top the Banned Books List . . . .
Do you actually think that by removing stories like these from school libraries that it will also magically eliminate any nastiness from ever occurring to your speshul snowflakes???? I mean, I understand that Virginia might not be everyone’s idea of a great time, but silencing her won’t keep the superbadawful stuff from happening.
The good news is, I loved Virginia enough for at least 20 or 25 naysayers. And I loved the messages contained in this little slice of awesome even more. Sure things got wrapped up in a tidier way than would happen in real life, but it’s a YA book FFS. What’s the message supposed to be? “Everything is horrible and life sucks?” That’s what the grit lit genre is for.
So what kind of things are within the pages of this little gem? Well, I’ll tell you. But first, to all the helicopter parents out there . . . .
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things tells some straight up truths such as . . . .
“Losing your virginity is sloppy and painful and about as fun as getting your toe amputated, so it should definitely happen with someone you care about.”
Virginia learns that maybe her brother didn’t really deserve to be put up on a pedestal like she always thought when he gets kicked out of college . . .
And discovers that while she feels this way . . . .
“I know what it’s like to hate your body so much that you want to hurt it.”
Even a person who she thought was perfect, might be hiding the truth about what they do to get there.
Most importantly, Virginia eventually comes to terms with the fact that this line of thinking is disgusting . . . .
Because everyone deserves friendship and love – no matter their size.
I loved watching Virginia find her voice and realize that . . . .
“I think people can choose to be victims or they can choose to be empowered and to carry on. That’s what I want. To be empowered.”
And to any youngster who might be reading this review who can relate to Virginia. Please remember . . . .