(It is awfully hard to write a decent review with a Siamese cat sitting on your mousepad and a terrier licking your pant leg ever so tenderly/persistently, but I will try my best…)
It’s a rare book that makes me want to rush out and read everything else that the author has ever written (including archived blog posts). Are you searching for a story that is fun, suspenseful, a little strange, and packed with dry humor? Well, you’ve got it all right here. Maureen Johnson’s devilish is so good. It’s just so good. Read this:
My sister, Joan, was picking all of the green and orange pieces out of her bowl of Froot Loops when I came downstairs. Spread out in front of her were some books and papers. Joan never actually did her homework. I’m not sure Joan actually knew that she was supposed to do it – I think she may have been under the impression that she was just supposed to watch over it for the night and make sure nothing happened to it. Every morning, she took it out and checked to make sure that every page was as blank, every problem was as undone, and every answer was just as unwritten as when she’d first taken it under her wing.
Funny, yes? devilish is loaded with funny bits. I like funny. I don’t think it would be possible to read this book and not feel perked up, renewed, and ready to face your bedside stack of Sad Teenager Novels.
Jane Jarvis and her best friend Allison Concord are not the most popular girls at Saint Teresa’s Preparatory School for Girls. They’re quirky and they’re happy enough that way – or at least Jane is. When the devil shows up at Saint T’s, Allison is ready to give up everything – even her soul – in order to join the ranks of the cool. Jane must keep her head if she is going to outwit the “representative of the Satanic High Command, Hearth of the Cold and All-Consuming Fire, Destroyer of Worlds, Consumer of Souls, Taker of the Life Breath…” Does she do it? Read the book, my friends. Read the book. I think it’s refreshing to read a wholly enjoyable, romp of a story, no strings attached. I liked experiencing a story without feeling like the author is trying to show me The True Meaning of Life or teach me a Deep, Heartbreaking Lesson. This is not to imply that Johnson’s book is fluff. No, no, no. You’ll find only sharp, sophisticated writing between these covers, and a host of characters you’d follow into a sequel in a flash.
So treat your jaded, seen-it-all soul to a little devilish deliciousness. (It’s every bit as satisfying as that perfect pink cupcake, I promise).