Review of Mockingbird Summer by Lynda Rutledge
As I settled down with Mockingbird Summer, the allure was palpable. I had absolutely adored Rutledge’s previous work, West With Giraffes, and couldn’t wait to dive into another slice of historical fiction. Set in 1964—a year brimming with change and revolution—I was instantly reminded of my own childhood, when the shadows of the Cold War and moments of civil rights awakening loomed large. Here we meet Corky, a thirteen-year-old plopped right in the middle of it all. I felt a connection, being just a tad younger than her during this tumultuous time. Yet, while the setting sparked my interest, I found myself reflecting on my expectations versus reality as I journeyed through the narrative.
The novel tackles several heavy themes: racism, segregation, women’s rights, and the growing unrest in Vietnam. Yet, Rutledge’s treatment of these complex issues often felt overly simplistic. Characters were portrayed as either good or bad, lacking the nuanced depth I had hoped for. I frequently found myself wishing for shades of gray—those little complexities that make us human and real. Corky’s world was vividly drawn, yet the omniscient narrative style often detracted from the immediacy of her experiences. There were moments where I felt Rutledge was explaining the obvious—perhaps in an effort to cater to a younger audience—and it slowed the pace to a crawl. It was as if she forgot that readers can often connect the dots themselves.
And then there’s Roy Rogers, the dog. I appreciate a good dose of whimsy in literature, but the anthropomorphizing of Corky’s furry companion felt forced. While there’s certainly a place for lightheartedness amidst serious themes, this particular narrative thread diverted my attention rather than enhancing it.
Yet, despite these critiques, there was an undeniable suspense that kept me turning the pages. I was genuinely invested in the outcome—as various family members navigated their lives against the backdrop of such drastic societal changes. The ambiguous ending—rather than tying everything up neatly—felt refreshing and authentic, reflecting the uncertain nature of both Corky’s life and the era.
I feel that Mockingbird Summer might resonate most with young adult readers or those looking for a light introduction to the complexities of the 1960s. It serves as a gentle introduction to the era’s challenges and triumphs. For me, the read was a mixed bag; I appreciated the nostalgia and thematic intent, but craved a deeper exploration of its subjects.
In the end, Lynda Rutledge’s Mockingbird Summer left me with a blend of nostalgia and contemplation. While it may not have fully echoed the brilliance of her prior work, it encouraged reflection on the past’s impact on our present. I am grateful to Netgalley and Lake Union Publishing for the opportunity to read this advance copy—every book contributes to the rich tapestry of literary conversation, and I look forward to seeing where Rutledge takes us next.