Hit by Lorie Ann Grover
Blink, 2014, 213 pages
Young Adult Fiction
When high school senior Sarah falls for her poetry teacher (a college student fulfilling a teaching requirement for his program), things get a little cloudy. While Mr. Haddings thinks he’s made it clear that there is no chance of a romantic relationship, Sarah isn’t so sure of his intentions. Dealing with the shift of control of her life from her mother to herself and trying to make a decision about college, Sarah has plenty to worry about before Mr. Haddings mistakenly hits her with his car during a rainstorm on her way to school. In alternating perspectives, Sarah and Mr. Haddings ruminate on their relationship, her recovery, and the future.
Grover’s idea of a student pining for a teacher is nothing new, but the market is there (and I’m part of it), so Hit starts off with an intriguing premise made all the more interesting by the layered conflict. Not only does Sarah have a thing for Mr. Haddings, but now Mr. Haddings has hit Sarah with his car and, medically, it doesn’t look great for Sarah. But that’s about the extent of the merits of Hit: the premise. Unfortunately, Grover’s actual execution of the concept is flawed.
The most evident issue in Hit is its writing style. The sentence structure in the novel is painfully simplistic, leaving the reader with an unrealistic and borderline offensive demonstration of teen communication. This is compounded by the topics, metaphors, and vocabulary Grover uses in the first-person narrative and dialog. Grover fixates on stereotypical teenage concerns when it comes to Sarah — her appearance, boys (excessively, I think, and well beyond the plot of student-pining-for-teacher and emphasized by her unwillingness to attend a women’s college), and her relationship with her mother. These stereotypes seem extra repetitive when combined with language that varies little. Despite Sarah’s poetic aspirations, her ability to use unique and descriptive language falls significantly short.
Hit alternates between Sarah’s and Mr. Hadden’s points of view. With Sarah in-and-out of consciousness, it’s perhaps the only way to tell the story with a regular pace, but this style choice’s utility ends there. Anything gleaned from the inner thoughts of the two main characters could have just as easily been conveyed through third-person narration. The differences between Sarah’s and Mr. Hadden’s narration styles are minute, if at all existent, and therefore do not contribute to their character or character development.
Grover brings her novel to the end with a moralistic outlook, but it doesn’t quite feel deserved. None of her characters are easy to sympathize with and the story, which covers only a few days, has an uncomfortable flow to it that can’t be attributed to the inappropriate relationship brewing between Sarah and Mr. Haddings. If you’re looking for a well-done scandalous student-teacher relationship in fiction, this isn’t quite it.
❤❤ out of ❤❤❤❤❤