Fruit: A Novel About a Boy and His Nipples
Description
$18.95
ISBN 1-55022-620-7
DDC C813'.6
Author
Publisher
Year
Contributor
Ian C. Nelson, Librarian Emeritus, former Assistant Director of
Libraries (University of Saskatchewan) and dramaturge (Festival de la
Dramaturgie des Prairies).
Review
Unfortunately this delightful book is saddled with a most off-putting
cover design. The title itself is not the most appealing but is
justified by the ongoing question of sexual orientation that underpins
the novel. Fruit is “a novel about a boy and his nipples,” although
they are really a device to allow the boy to speak to his inner self.
Peter Paddington (his name is significant) has blushing nipples that
“pop out” and start talking to him. This begins a series of
adolescent observations on family and school life (a much-anticipated
change heading into Grade 9). His best friend, Daniela, with her
exuberantly potty mouth, bears more than passing resemblance to Zazie
(of Zazie in the Metro). Weight problems of the pubescent protagonist
are constantly at issue but, like the sexuality question, are touched on
in a beguilingly offhand manner that keeps them amusing even as the
novel moves from the inconsequential to the substantial. Likewise,
without any overt violence, the seriousness of bullying for this age
group is cleverly brought out.
Sarnia-born Brian Francis has found just the right voice for his
protagonist: a narrative voice that slips seamlessly into direct speech
or the extravagant imaginings of a latter-day Anne of Green Gables and
then back to narration with nary a blink. Yet the entertaining text
never loses sight of the impact of adolescent fantasy and awakening
sexuality. The author has also found a perfect balance between candour
and awakening judgment on lifestyle choices. For instance, when the
protagonist dresses up in his mother’s clothes and makeup, he is
suddenly brought face to face with the potential consequences of his
actions by the appearance of his shadowy Uncle Ed, whose life is
shrouded by the unspoken. Peter reflects: “I had let a Bedtime Movie
[his word for fantasy] leave my head and come to life.”