Book 639: The Music of What Happens – Bill Konigsberg

No matter how many of these I read I’m always going to ask where these were when I was in high school. Kids these days don’t know how great they have it. I’m legit laughing at myself writing that, because I know how much better things were for me when I was in high school/college than it was just 5-10 years before that.

This is the third Konigsberg I’ve read and I feel like I should read The Porcupine of Truth and Honestly Ben just to complete the novels! I have enjoyed all three of them so it’s not like it’d be the most difficult thing in the world, but I do have a lot of books on my TBR list, so maybe I should wait a little longer. Spoilers to follow, so don’t read it if you don’t want to know any major plot points.

The Music of What Happens is an adorable story with complex issues faced by each of the characters. I’m not sure about the timing of the complex issues, but knowing how messy real life gets and how quickly things happen I guess it could happen. The entire book takes place over a few weeks.

I really liked the main characters, Max and Jordan. They felt real and faced real situations. Max is coming to terms over whether or not he’s been sexually assaulted at the same time Jordan is coming to terms with the fact that his mother is unable to provide for him and may have mental health issues and/or a gambling problem. They come together over their both being gay (and coming out to each other) while running Jordan’s food truck (his deceased dad’s truck). There are other themes and ideas that Konigsberg touches on including toxic masculinity, victimization, and multiple types of racism, classism, and others -isms present. It’s all about intersectionality y’all.

“Kayla says, ‘He is. You should date him. Two boys on a food truck. It’s like a great trashy male-male erotica novel. “Pump me full of diesel fuel Max.”‘” (82)

For as much as there is in this book it didn’t feel too overwhelming like many who try to include too much. There’s humor and sadness, plenty of awkward situations that make you slightly uncomfortable, all while not beating you over the head with the various themes. Konigsberg has a tongue in cheek way of describing things that made me laugh at first and then take a second to re-read something that was actually quite profound:

“‘Queer card’, I reply, slapping an imaginary card on the counter. We all have cards we get to play, though I only get to play mine once a week because I lost a bet (Keanu Reeves is in fact Canadian, not dead). Pam, whose mom is black and whose dad is Mexican, gets to play her card daily, and Kayla, whose dad is Canadian and whose mom is Scandinavian, gets to play hers whenever the hell she wants. Because privilege.” (25)

“With my white friends, I’m always half-Mexican. They never say I’m half-Irish. Never say I’m half white. Like I’m tainted halfway away from standard. It’s like when I was a kid and I thought vanilla ice cream meant no flavor, like it was the base of all the flavors. But vanilla is a bean. Like chocolate is a bean. Like cinnamon is a root. All roots and beans. All flavors. There is no base. No ice cream without a flavor.” (290)

Although he simplifies he doesn’t oversimplify, but he pushes it on a few occasions. I also appreciated that he acknowledged that teens have sex—and not just “straight” sex (whatever the hell that means). So many of the feel good rom-com teen/young adult books lead you right up to it and then they fade to black or end the novel or they only ever kiss and hold hands. I’m not saying they shouldn’t do that, these kids are underage, but they have to acknowledge the reality of the world. Both this and What If It’s Us? by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera that I read right after acknowledged this and made it part of their stories. They talk about gay characters losing their virginity and the experience around it and the fact that Max can’t (or won’t) talk to his friends about it because there’s still some sort of anti-gay toxic-masculinity stigma around it.

The other piece that REALLY got me was Konigsberg talking about Jordan’s mom and addiction. I’m not sure how he knows, but he knows. Maybe he’s read a lot, maybe he’s had a close friend/family member face it, but this one was a punch to the gut.

“I’m so tired of thinking about it. This is why people do drugs. So they don’t have to think. Or gamble, I guess. And you know what? AS much as I don’t want to think, or feel, I’ll never fucking drink or gamble or anything, because if I ever made anyone feel the way my mom has made me feel, I would not be able to live with myself either. And thinking about that makes my insides hurt, because I love her still, even though she fucked up my life. Our lives. I can’t even imagine the pain she is feeling because deep down I know she loves me, and yet she did this still. And I know that it’s a disease and not a choice but right now that feels like blah blah blah. She cared more about spinning video slot wheels than she did about me.” (323)

Recommendation: A worthy read with realistic characters facing real life situations and responding like teenagers would. There’s a bit of a glow on the “let’s talk about it” situations that happen and the bros coming together to be less bro-y, but it does work and I can’t fault Konigsberg (or any teenagers for that matter) for wanting to make a better world. I was worried there would be too much in all the intertwining themes, but the author balances them well and doesn’t let any particular theme take over more than any other.

Opening Line: “There’s this thing my dad taught me when I was a kid.”

Closing Line: “Because for eternity I’d like to float around the universe on this bed, with this boy, with this dog. In this perfectly imperfect moment.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)