At the bottom of the ocean: a "Ramona Blue" review
Nothing lights a book’s fire quite like controversy. In Ramona Blue’s case, it all had to do with the initial flap copy. Some reviewers were outraged, calling Julie Murphy out on a story that could potentially be harnessing a lesbian turns straight narrative. Murphy responded by informing readers about her bisexuality and that she would not purposefully write something as harmful as what people were assuming. After all, sexuality is fluid. What we think can be constant can change and evolve over time. It’s a lot more complicated than how it seems. However, some reviewers were not convinced and spammed Goodreads with one-star reviews, showcasing pretty disheartening biphobia.
My reaction to the controversy is on Goodreads (although it makes me cringe looking back at it). I wasn’t on the negative side of things, though. Despite my shocked reaction to the original phrasing of the flap copy, I knew Murphy wouldn’t do anything terrible. Bisexuality gets a lot more crap than it really deserves; some people don’t understand why a same-sex relationship or opposite-sex relationship can have more complexity under the surface. To have a bisexual author write a book exploring that topic alongside other coming-of-age discoveries was a huge step for YA. That’s why I was so happy to find this on my local Overdrive as an audiobook and get the chance to listen to it, especially after waiting for so long.
I’m happy I did. Ramona Blue nails a story about a high school senior realizing her sexuality isn’t as clear-cut as she believed while combining other elements that make it an effective coming-of-age tale. This is also a novel about a girl longing for more out of life despite what she has in her small town, the people that make her life beautiful and complicated, and her discovery of things she didn’t realize could make her happy. Everything is handled well thanks to engaging dialogue and writing that sets a perfect tone from the get-go: melancholic hope. I also loved Thérèse Plummer’s narration. Her voice as Ramona was vivid and makes the story come to life, and I enjoyed the ad-libs she adds into the lines. There are some elements I'm not the biggest fan of, like the main couple’s tension or some of the on-and-off conflicts, but these are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a solid YA contemporary that pinpoints the growing pains and complexities of living life under tough circumstances.
Ramona Leroux is a legend in Eulogy, Mississippi. At six foot three with cascading dyed blue hair, her notoriety as “Ramona Blue” doesn’t stop there. She’s been out as gay since freshman year, her older sister’s expecting a baby by April, and her family was hit hard by Hurricane Katrina and never fully recovered. Since then, Ramona’s been hard at work so she can devote time for her family, all the while fielding her flaky mom’s homophobia and her dad’s tender care that comes after long days at his job. However, Ramona believes there’s more to life than the trailer park she calls home, but she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to leave. Who will take care of her sister’s baby if the lazy boyfriend won’t help? So Ramona accepts defeat, working a paper route, busing at the local restaurant to pass the time, and trying not to sink in the long-distance relationship she started with a not-out girl after their summer fling.
But then an old childhood friend blows back into town and plants roots. Freddie is still the same freckled and charming boy Ramona chased down the beach during her first summers as a kid, and she’s eager to reconnect with him now that he’s back for good. The two eat breakfast together, hang out with friends, and swim at the YMCA. But then things get complicated. Ramona realizes she doesn’t just love to swim laps with Freddie; she loves him. This completely changes how sure she was of her life. If she isn’t gay, what label is hers? Does she need a label? How will the people who have known about her sexuality for years react? What does this mean for the rest of her life?
Naturally, this is a tough question for Ramona to answer, but Murphy does a stellar job tackling this topic. She makes it very clear that Ramona’s crush on a boy doesn’t make her straight; she’s still attracted to girls, and that won't change. I appreciate this adamant call, especially because there are some people who may not think this is valid. I believe it is, and I’m very certain others in the LGBTQ+ community will as well.
But that’s not the only thing Murphy tackles well. The heartbreak Ramona faces while growing up is also believable, especially since she has had to be the mature one in her family for so long. To see her struggle with realizing the stability she was counting on crumble is sad and relatable. I also enjoy the dissection of her relationship with her older sister. Sisterly conflicts aren’t new in YA, but Murphy approaches it in a very unique way. They have such a push-and-pull dynamic but can’t deny the fierce loyalty they have to each other. They’ll always have each other’s backs, even when they fight. That made me smile and appreciate my relationship with my brother; no matter what, I love him dearly.
I found myself loving the other characters in this book as well. Ramona Blue has quite a big ensemble cast, filled with larger-than-life personalities that pop off the page. Whether it’s Freddie himself, his caring grandmother Agnes, the bubbly big sis Hattie, Ramona’s best friends Saul (rocking the 70's porn star aesthetic) and Ruth (sometimes cynical but secretly compassionate), the community college swim coach that watches over Ramona at the pool and says she has potential, and all the other notable figures in small town life, they are entertaining and fun to witness. I love that they represent so many pockets of experiences and colors; diversity is a great thing to feature in a novel, especially with the level of heartwarming appreciation and sincerity Murphy utilizes. Some authors should take notes.
There are some nitpicks, though. I feel like the conflict between Freddie and Ramona near the end of the book has a very predictable layout to others in this genre. They run hot-and-cold at that point, which also describes some of Ramona’s other relationships and friendships. If there had been more owning up to prior actions or less back-and-forth, I think I would’ve appreciated how things played out even more. But regardless, everyone needs to add Ramona Blue to their TBR. Julie Murphy has written a powerful contemporary about sexual fluidity, the binds that support us and hold us down, and the dreams waiting to be found if we look hard enough. It's the perfect poolside read this summer.