Book Review of "Skippy Dies" by Paul Murray

"Skippy Dies: A Novel" by Paul Murray is not the book I expected it to be. It's more devastating, which is not to say that I regret reading it. I was moved by the story. I just assumed it would be about the comic and heartfelt troubles of adolescent life. Don't get me wrong. There are those moments, as experienced by several teenagers and its main character, a fourteen-year-old boy, whose nickname is Skippy. There's also an ominous thread throughout the story, though.

Like many students in boarding school stories, Skippy, whose proper name is Daniel Juster, attends a prestigious school, the Seabrook College, a Catholic school for boys in Dublin, Ireland. He has a loyal group of friends and there's a coming-of-age romance, reminding me of "Dead Poets Society" and "Harry Potter." Still, perhaps I should have known that a book with "Dies" in the title would be charting darker waters. I just didn't anticipate feeling so somber by the end.

Yet, after he dies in the introductory pages, the reader is in the presence of a fully alive Skippy. We travel back to when he is fighting for his happiness (literally there is a fist fight), despite his complicated struggles. These moments of his young life are so heartbreakingly honest, innocent, funny, hopeful and harrowing that by the time his absence is the core of the book, I understand why his friends, in particular his gifted roommate, Ruprecht, miss him so terribly. But before Skippy becomes a tragic figure, he is infatuated with Lori, whose beauty is also alluring to Carl Cullen, a disturbed fellow student and drug dealer.

Through a telescope, he first spies her as a lovely vision throwing a frisbee. Later, we feel the rush of young love, when he pedals to her home on a bike, borrowed from a friend.

"The rain has cleared and the clouds given way to a sunset that blushes deep and fiery, lush pinks and warm reds piled on top of each other in a breathy rushed jumble like a heart in love; and as he weaves out weightlessly into the traffic, leaving their [his friends'] final words of advice -'Full hardcore sex!''Just don't puke on her!' - to disappear into the evening, the euphoria blossoms inside him at last, and with every yard travelled, continues, star-like, to grow. The grave canopies of the trees overhead merge with the incoming dusk; the dual carriageway hooshes by him, its tall streetlamps seeming to sing through the twilight; the chain and wheels hum at his feet, the chocolates swing from their bag on the handlebars, as he turns down her road, past the old stone houses with their ivy veils, to arrive at her gates; and there, at the end of the driveway, just as he imagined it, she is - in the lamplight, on the doorstep, laughing like he's just told the greatest joke in the world."

I wanted to forget Skippy's untimely death and rush headlong with him into this romantic whirlwind, in this ambitious novel told through many points of view, that includes a broad range of ideas drawn from video games, physics, astronomy, Irish history and folklore, rugby, English literature, among others. I admired his indefatigable best friend, Ruprecht. "For Ruprecht, the world is a compendium of fascinating facts just waiting to be discovered, and a difficult maths problem is like sinking into a nice warm bath." But life isn't all that comforting in "Skippy Dies," with drug dealers, family struggles, and a school built on a superficial code of order and suppression, which all contribute to a shocking revelation two-thirds of the way through the story. Bullying is embraced not just by the student body, but by the faculty and administration as well."

The Automator" (Greg Costigan), is a principal whose ambitions to modernize the school, far exceeds his emotional and intellectual capabilities. His limitations are funny but also scary, because he is easily recognizable as someone who puts power and reputation above everything else. While disciplining students and friends of Skippy's, Mr. Murray writes of the Automator, "There was a new tone in his voice tonight. Before he'd treated them as he treated all the boys - like insects, flimsy and inconsequential." There is also the severe Father Green and the inept Father Foley, and others who stifle or bungle true communication with students.

Also, there is an alumnus who has joined the faculty of the school as a history teacher, but he feels like a loser for being there. "Howard the Coward" Fallon tries to teach his students despite being trapped in low self-esteem and others' perceptions of what has been drummed into his head as his personal failings. He is also distracted by a romantic interest, a sexy geography teacher, who, to be fair, distracts the boys as well.

As such, it is Skippy's friends who are the most inspiring and fun part of the story. They have such different personalities, ranging from Ruprecht Van Doren, the engrossed, overweight scholar, to Mario Bianchi, the self-professed ladies' man, sarcastic Dennis Hoey and kindhearted Geoff Sproke. The adventures and conversations of these friends and their classmates keep the story from being overwhelmed by its darker themes. Mr. Murray has a gift for male adolescent dialogue, which is genuinely funny ( think of a "lucky condom" and a "performance" that involves fire and flatulence). I will never think of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken," the same way again.

"...when we're all together, it's like Skippy's there too, because each of us has his own little jigsaw piece of him he remembers, and when you fit them all together, and you make the whole picture, then it's like he comes to life," Geoff says. Their friendships make the story so vivid, so real, so utterly, beautifully heartbreaking. Skippy Lives.