It was hard to like What Happened to Cass McBride because it was hard to like any of the characters in the book. On the other hand–because personality takes a back seat to the mechanics of the story–it is easy to rattle off a list of where Cass formed her sense of values and self-identity–or lack thereof. Thank you dad! for teaching me to use and manipulate people–and for all that cozy interior design work! And if we want to get heavy here, we can also say thank you Cruel World! for the pressures and expectations you place on teens with a penchant towards over achievement.
Whatever. That’s the sad thing about Cass McBride: it’s just hard to care about her. It’s also hard to care about her tormentor, even though the author takes a page out of Cass’ book (so to speak!) and manipulates the reader with that back-story about how Kyle is really just acting out his rage and hurt towards his mom who basically abused Kyle’s younger brother to DEATH-by-suicide.
As a thriller/mystery–this book was a diverting and fast read. When it comes to our list of developmental assets, Cass is not without value. The story is a cautionary tale about the importance of family–for good and evil–and also about boundaries–literal and figurative. In fact, Cass spends all but the last few pages of the book underground, buried alive in an interrogation room that is not unlike the suffocating, hidden, and terrifying world of the abusive family. We see echoes of confinement throughout the book: the sterile white walls and carpet of the McBride house, the police interrogation room, the jail cell that awaits our narrator, and the psych ward Cass wakes up to when her underground ordeal is over, and her psychological ordeal is still going strong.
But is Cass really so bad? OK–she wrote that mean note that pushed her would be date to the breaking point. OK, she is manipulative and calculating. OK, she is not exactly warm and cuddly. Hello?? That describes all of us at some time or another in our lives. It also describes a stereotype most of us know all too well: the IN girl from hell. Plus–Cass is still just a kid. At least from where I stand at 50 years old. Her punishment–less for the narrow incident of the note, and more for who and what she represents–seems excessive. And her defense? To pierce the psychological veil of her captor? That seems pretty smart, even if she did come by those skills if not dishonestly then at least in a way that repels us. I felt sympathy not for Cass the person but for the injustice of her situation.
I also felt the older brother gets off easy, although I liked him no better than I liked his victim. The real culprit–bad parents–get skewered off to the side. I’d ask–”What do make of THAT??” except I never got quite invested enough in the characters to pursue their lives and motives after I closed the book on them.
I’m coming down hard on What Happened to Cass McBride, and I’m not sure why. I didn’t feel this hostile when I was reading the book. Maybe I’m just out of sorts. It was a decent read–the author breathed plenty of life and color into the “buried alive!” plot device, and teens may find Cass’ descent into madness at the end weirdly satisfying and thrilling. But not for long. Satisfaction and thrills were fleeting: when I put this book aside I felt like I’d just eaten a whole bag of greasy potato chips and canned onion dip. Good in the moment, but not in the long run.
Would I recommend Tyrell rather than Cass McBride? No. Both books touch on values of boundaries and self identity, but there the similarity ends. Tyrell is a high quality and gritty novel that explores rather than exploits those themes. If a teen is looking for a mystery or something easy and “fun(??)” I’d probably recommend Cass and ask them to get back to me on what they thought. If someone is looking for a character to love or relate to–or a window into the world–I’d hand them Tyrell, and ask them to get back to me about what they felt.
Where did Tyrell’s values come from? I was only kind of joking when I said they came from Coe Booth. The fact we even ASK that question shows how real Tyrell feels to the reader, and the degree to which he seems to have transcended his environment. Maybe he gets some of those positive values from the good parts of his dad; from his friends; from the concern and kindness of Novisha’s mom; from the sweetness of people like Jasmine; from the kindness of the woman at the “soup kitchen”. But there is something more here–I think the reader feels–and hopes–that there is some innate, incorruptible, and indestructible quality in Tyrell that also “gives” him his values. Like a divining rod bends to hidden water, we want to believe, for his sake and for our own, that Tyrell will tend towards what is good in Life and in himself. If he can do it, there is hope for all of us.
