Publisher: Bloomsbury Children's Books
Publication Date: February 28, 2012
Description:
Eliza Monroe—daughter of the future president of the United States—is devastated when her mother decides to send her to boarding school outside of Paris. But the young American teen is quickly reconciled to the idea when—ooh, la-la!—she discovers who her fellow pupils will be: Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of Josephine Bonaparte; and Caroline Bonaparte, youngest sister of the famous French general. It doesn't take long for Eliza to figure out that the two French girls are mortal enemies—and that she's about to get caught in the middle of their schemes.
Loosely drawn from history, Eliza Monroe's imagined coming of age provides a scintillating glimpse into the lives, loves, and hopes of three young women during one of the most volatile periods in French history.
Review:
I suppose I should start off with the fact that this is fiction based VERY loosely on historical figures and events; the story is made up, but the names are real. Considering how frequently I air my (occasionally annoying) thoughts pertaining to accuracy in details as they apply to persons, places, and events that were real, it will probably come as a surprise that - though Dunlap played fast and loose with her fiction and fact - it didn't really bother me. (Are you shocked? I was.) Maybe it is because her primary characters were people that I knew of but little about. She keeps the external historical details fairly accurate while making the events most intimate to the characters primarily fiction. That seemed to make it somehow okay. I was able to read the entire novel without feeling the need to flip to the back of the book or pull up google to fact-check, which is a testament to just how engrossing I found The Académie.
Dunlap's characters captured me and wouldn't let me go. The four young women central to the plot were all very honest, believable portrayals of young ladies of their time and in their positions. They were exceptionally well developed - vibrant and vital - and capable of creating strong emotions. Sadly, my primary emotions were dislike, disdain, and less frequently sympathy. I think it another testament to Dunlap's talent that the latter was even possible. Every time I would start to like a character, or think perhaps I had been too hard on them, they would do something so self-serving or cruel that I was right back at square one.
The Académie is written in a very intimate first person style that feels almost like diary entries, and alternates perspective between three of the four main characters. While reading their alternating views of events, I was constantly reminded of something a teacher once said, 'rarely does someone think they are the villain in their own story.' We switch between seeing the excuses for and the effects of each girl's actions, and it is enlightening in a horrifying sort of way. To see how cruelly something can be felt by someone, followed by what the other actually intended to happen was fascinating. Which is why, even though I really didn't like these girls, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about them. This pulling closer to and pushing away from each of the characters with the change of narration also gave the girls' characters added depth that I didn't at first suspect. I don't think they would feel so terrible if they were not so real. Each time I was with a character, I sympathized with them, and could understand their actions if not condone them. (And to be truthful, Madeleine and Hortense weren't actually that bad until later in the book. I am also thankful that Dunlap never gave Caroline control of the narration - that is one head I do not want to be in.)
Overall I actually really liked The Académie, and thought it was very well done. I will definitely read other books by Dunlap, and think she is a skilled author. However, I do have one problem with The Académie - and it is a rather large one. Dunlap (per her Author's Note) purposely attempted to explore 18th century racism and the issue of slavery. She attempted to display it in all its ugliness, and then show how circumstances could change people's opinions, allowing 'shaded feelings' on the issues. She particularly tried to show this in the character of Eliza. While I greatly appreciate the attempt, I think she was unfortunately so successful in the first part of her aim that she utterly failed in the second. I did not get 'shaded feelings' from Eliza. Her behavior to the French servants early in the book was so cruel (and her thoughts about both the servants in France and the slaves at home so dismissive) that her turnabout toward African-American slaves at the end felt contrived and inauthentic to her character. Eliza's behavior with Madeleine felt believable insofar as she had already invested in Madeleine's humanity, and could not take it back. It has been repeatedly documented throughout history that exceptionally racist people can be adept at compartmentalizing those feelings - suspending them when confronted with a single individual they come to know while still maintaining them against a race as a whole. Nothing ever makes me think this is not the case with Eliza and Madeleine. (Nor does the actual life story of Eliza Monroe - as seen in a few hours of googling - ever betray hints of these conflicted feelings.)
Perhaps it is only a product of my own privilege (that of having education and experiences which allow me to not be racist) but I find the book's implications to be both insulting and patronizing. I strongly resent the idea that it takes being thrown into close proximity to or intimacy with an individual of another race (or sexual orientation, or sex, or gender, or (dis)ability, or religion, etc.) to recognize their humanity. (Or, conversely, that racism, sexism, etc. arise from a lack of experience with people who are different.) I call BS. Over and over again we see people who were 'products' of the very same times, situations and circumstances as racist individuals who, unlike their less open-minded peers, were instead quite aware of the inherent humanity of people different from themselves. (In counterpoint to Eliza - white, southern, and/or wealthy people who were abolitionists and members of the Underground Railroad.) There are people out there who can recognize the basic common humanity of us all - no matter in which society, time, or income class they lived. I think it sells humanity as a whole short to say that we must all be taught or forced to recognize this. Yes, a person who is merely self-absorbed may be made to see that they have been unintentionally or unknowingly cruel or racist, and will then change. (Oskar Schindler as he was portrayed in Schindler's List comes to mind.) However, people who are truly racist (sexist, homophobic, etc.) are rarely going to shed those beliefs that simply. I willingly admit I could be wrong, and would welcome thoughts on the topic.
Review Copy Provided by Bloomsbury Children's Books
Review also appears on Goodreads
