You can't stop me: an "On the Come Up" review
It's a daunting challenge to follow up an impressive debut. Angie Thomas' The Hate U Give has spent 157 weeks on The New York Times bestsellers list, most in the top ten, and with its strong protagonist, evocative writing, and brilliant dissection of racial attacks by police, it deserves its spot. But I can imagine how much pressure Thomas must have been under to produce an equal follow-up, from her publishing company, editors and agents, and even herself. Originally set to release in the summer of 2018, On the Come Up sounded promising, even after a push back to winter 2019. Returning to Garden Heights and giving focus to an aspiring rapper battling sexism, racial stereotyping, and trying to support her struggling family? It sounded excellent!
And it was. Thomas proves her strength in character voice once again in her second project. Bri shines throughout a story of resilience, trial and error, and ultimately staying true to yourself, even if everything's on the line. She's an excellent main character, flawed but likable, sincere and still trying to find her place in the world. The rest of the cast has the same treatment, although the introduction of romantic plot points leads to some initial discrepancies that, while fine by the end of the book, need some fine-tuning still. But the story itself is gripping, one where an audience roots for the protagonist and hopes they find success, no matter how many times the world knocks them down. We're here for Bri's growth, battling racism and sexism because she wants to be a rapper, society believing she's one thing when she's so much more than that. The struggles she faces are unfair, but she never loses hope, even if she does lose sight of herself in the process. That's part of the human experience, and Thomas has done an excellent job in crafting a grounded, relatable, and uplifting story that not only gives Black women from working-class families greater representation but also tackles a diverse world that's had the chance to shine in YA contemporaries in recent years.
Bri loves to rap. She knows she's good at it, wants to do it in her late dad's honor, and all she's waiting for is the chance to get into The Ring, a prestigious event at the local club. When she does, things begin to take off. People who go to the performing arts high school with her praise her abilities. Kids from the project her aunt lives at look up to her. Her dad's old manager is intrigued and thinks she can make it big. However, life isn't all peaches and cream. Her mother was recently laid off from her secretary job at the church, and the family's income is dwindling with one revenue source cut off. Bri's aunt is in and out of her life, her life within street gang Garden Disciples taking up the time Bri wants her to put in as her manager. And the song Aunt Pooh helped Bri score the chance to record paints her in a light some people rather wouldn't see, even those close to Bri. But Bri wants to take the risks necessary to make her mark in the world, to help out her family in any way she can. But is she losing some part of her in the process?
I don't think my short blurb does justice to the breadth of this novel. On the Come Up extends its reach past Bri, but without her, the book would be missing its anchor. She's such an excellent protagonist, full of life and grit and tenacity. This is not only brought to life by the excellent narration of Bahni Turpin in the audiobook; Angie Thomas provides that through her writing. Bri's emotions, spirit, and motivation come through in asides, dialogue, and narration (this even applies to the pop culture references that, although somewhat dated, carry a lot of pride within them), expertly crafted and engaging. Her voice propels each moment forward, no matter if it advances plot or serves to paint Garden Heights in another light. Each moment matters because Bri's insight makes it matter. Nothing feels wasted, and that gift is what makes Thomas such a special and valuable writer.
This color extends to the cast of characters as well. Bri's tight group of friends, her brother and mother, her aunt, the kids on the school bus, and those trying to push her to become a superstar all feel complex and human, motivated by their own desires but trying their best to be there for each other (unless they're blinded by money, in which case Supreme tries and fails to be there). Malik and Sonny support Bri in the way best friends should, although Malik's introduction after the first chapter and his subsequent arc feel like typical love triangle shenanigans to steer Bri away from him and toward eventual love interest Curtis (who, after his confusing establishment, turns out really sweet and supportive). Trey and Jay are Bri's sources of tough love but are also trying their best to support the family, even if they never show their struggle. Even Supreme, despite his role as the antagonist, shows flickers of the sacrifices he's made to be successful, sacrifices that affect his behavior and the way he treats his son. However, the side character I was most affected by was Aunt Pooh. She and Bri have a close dynamic challenged by other commitments and different opinions on the song that catapults Bri into the spotlight. However, their stories run parallel, revealed near the end of the novel when Jay asks Bri who she is. Bri is a work-in-progress, but shockingly enough, so is Aunt Pooh, even as an adult. Both have lost sight of themselves, but now it's up to Bri to see her growth through to the end.
Angie Thomas delivers when it comes to building plot as well. I like that she decided to return to Garden Heights, shifted focus to another school in the area, but kept the core issues from The Hate U Give the same. Black and Brown students are primary targets and face humiliating acts for the sake of white safety, even at the hands of those expected to be allies (one of the security guards at Bri's school is Black). Bri facing discrimination because of the stereotypes associated with her skin color and who people perceive her to be is heartbreaking, especially once they take her song as evidence of all she supposedly says she does. Although this aspect of Midtown School for the Performing Arts is one of the only glimpses we get of the school itself, the racism at the hands of authorities strikes a powerful cord like it did in Thomas' debut. Thomas also does a great job of building up Jay's job loss in correlation with the family's struggle to pay their rent. From loss of electricity to low food, it's devastating to see a family struggling due to budget cuts and a bias against recovering addicts, even more so when Jay looks for opportunities herself, not relying on anyone else for help. This changes throughout the novel, and it's great to see this reflected in her children and how it changes throughout the novel.
Overall, On the Come Up is a strong follow-up from Thomas and an invigorating read from start to finish. A strong narrative voice, engaging characters and plot, and an earnest dissection of racism and sexism come together to create a truly stellar book. Aside from small quibbles, this one is a winner and should be read by all.