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321 pages, Hardcover
First published August 5, 2014
I bite my lip. My skin is hot with shame and I can’t quite catch my breath. “Did they do that to all of you?”This is a stunningly beautiful, complex book, but for two words: rape culture. Fucking rape culture, man.
She gives me a pitying look. “Only you.”
I look at them, and I look down at myself, and I know why. All of the other women are wearing simple brown dresses with straight skirts and plain sleeves. I look like a peacock in this embroidered dress of mine.
Ebian laughs, and his hand falls away from my neck. For a moment I believe I am free, but then I hear the tinkle of metal and realize he’s fumbling with his belt.To her own boss.
His mushroomy fingers are on my neck, and then—oh, I want to die—they are on the front of me, stroking down, only a few inches above the neckline of my dress. This is no way to touch a girl. This is private. This is sacred and intimate. I lean back to escape, but I only succeed in trapping myself against his weaselly, damp body.Her boss, who, throughout the book, constantly, ceaselessly makes advances towards her.
Mugo’s hand slips lower, and his fingers skim the neckline on the front of my dress. I can’t take it anymore. I try to squirm away, but Mugo’s other hand clamps down painfully on my shoulder, holding me in place.Outside of that, she is believed to be constantly under the threat of rape by her own fellow women.
“You’re lucky. I can’t imagine what they would have done to you if they had the strength. Weren’t you terrified?”And made to be the victim at every turn.
As I push up to my hands and knees, I feel air on the back of my legs.The main character excuses her own abuser.
The impish boy has lifted my skirt.
“You mourn for the boy who lifted your skirt in the cafeteria? Who exposed your skin for all to see?”And every woman in the book seems to blame Wen for her own sexuality, telling her that it is her responsibility to prevent her own sexual abuse.
Something inside me shrivels. I hope I’m imagining the edge in his voice. “Yes, I do. He didn’t mean it.”
“You watch yourself, Wen. Mind your manners and don’t wear fancy little girl clothes like you do. You’re asking for trouble.”The main character allows herself to be fondled, to be debased, in the hope that she can sacrifice herself to save someone she loves---that's not how love works.
Tears of shame sting my eyes. If this were only about me, I would slap him in the face and storm away, but it’s not. So I sit here and allow this disgusting man to fondle me, hating him, hating myself.Little girl. Little girl. Little girl.
“You’re such a little girl, Wen, aren’t you? Just a little girl.” His lips graze my hair, and I shudder.There was a tremendous amount of emphasis on Wen as a "little girl," so young, so helpless, so beautiful. Existing solely to be molested and used by others.
"I wish I could talk to him about what I've done, but I don't want him to know. I am alone in this, as I am alone in so much else. It is a crushing feeling with no corners and no edges. Endless and uncontainable. The Ghost seems to understand this feeling."
"Wen always has medicine."
I bite my lip. My skin is hot with shame and I can’t quite catch my breath. “Did they do that to all of you?”
She gives me a pitying look. “Only you.”
I look at them, and I look down at myself, and I know why. All of the other women are wearing simple brown dresses with straight skirts and plain sleeves. I look like a peacock in this embroidered dress of mine.
"You mourn for the boy who lifted your skirt in the cafeteria? Who exposed your skin for all to see?”
Something inside me shrivels. I hope I’m imagining the edge in his voice. “Yes, I do. He didn’t mean it.”
“You watch yourself, Wen. Mind your manners and don’t wear fancy little girl clothes like you do. You’re asking for trouble.”
”’Ghost, show me what you can do. Prove yourself to me. I want to be impressed.’”But when the Ghost responds in a less than kind manner, and more accidents continue to happen, Wen must come to terms with the fact that maybe this ghost isn’t so imaginary after all.
”He is human, he is a boy, he is evil and good fused together. My Ghost. My rescuer. My enemy, my friend.”And at times, he can be terrifying. Terrifyingly good at justifying his behavior and twisting the explanation to fit his own purpose. And yet underneath his disfiguring metal armor and mercurial temper, is the desire to do belong, to have a friend, someone who understands him and accepts him for who he is. And the person he’s deemed for this to happen is Wen.
”’I only wanted to know you, Wen. I’ve wanted to know you for so long. Ever since your father talked about you, I’ve been living on that wish, that one day you would come to me, and you would see me for what I am, and still you would not leave.’”His interactions with Wen are at times some of the most infuriating yet heartbreaking interactions of the entire story. Because though we as readers know it, and Wen knows it, it takes a long time for Bo to come to realize that his wish for Wen to accept him and be his companion, to stay with him, will never come true.
”’I wanted to give you everything,’ he says. ‘I wanted to build a world where you and I could play and live and where no one else would harm us, ever.’”**All the tears.** In his character, the author perfectly captures the original character of Erik the Phantom.