While reading Sara Grant’s young adult novel Dark Parties, I discovered something about myself: I am a prude. Yep, that’s right, I am already on my way to becoming one of those obnoxious elderly women who sit on their porches yelling at young females, “Put some clothes on, you filthy strumpet!” But more on that later. First, allow me to introduce the book.

Dark Parties follows 16 year-old Neva Adams who comes of age in a typical dystopian society. You know the one: everybody is watched by the government, nobody plans their own lives, the government is Evil and All-Powerful, people go “missing” when they show any signs of dissention. In this particular dystopia, the country is surrounded by a force field called the Protectosphere and all the citizens are led to believe that life outside the sphere no longer exists. But Neva questions that teaching. She remembers her grandmother (who is now missing) explaining how she believed life still exists beyond the sphere. And a better life, to boot. So, Neva and her friends put into action a plot to rebel against the government and break down the sphere.

Where, then, did I reach my prudish epiphany? Well, I suppose around page two. Around the time Neva is describing their teenage non-orgy orgy, I thought to myself, “Uh . . . what?” There is something about opening a book with sixteen-year-olds blacking out a house with plastic garbage bags and engaging in make-out sessions that causes me to detract points from said book. “A non-orgy?” you ask. Yep. Apparently, in life beneath the Protectosphere, the best way to flip the bird to the government is to not have sex. So we get a book starting with some heated kissing and a weird quasi-abstinence message that confuses even this prude. I mean, I know nothing about Neva except that she’ll intensely kiss a random guy in a pitch-black room at the drop of a hat. Although, in its own way, I suppose that is a sort of character development.

But let’s move past the sexual tension generously sprinkled throughout the book and move on to its substance, shall we? What bothers me even more than my prudish revelation is the fact that while the book proceeds at a good pace, much of the plot is predictable. I am not sure that there is a twist or a turn I did not foresee (this is a problem because I am notoriously unintuitive about guessing plot lines). I think only one event in the book surprised me. And I apologize for not being more specific, but I don’t want to spoil it for anybody who intends on reading the book. Doing so would make me a bad reviewer and somebody might come to my house and do unspeakable things to my juniper bushes.

I will get specific on one thing though: Is there now a rule when writing YA fantasy that girls must lose all sense of reason over a guy who’s about as creepy as a kudzu vine? Today I am speaking about Braydon Bartlett, the object of Neva’s wild lust. Despite being the new boyfriend to Neva’s best friend Sanna, Braydon is constantly all up on Neva. I guess I am supposed to find it romantic in a star-crossed sort of way, but it just makes me roll my eyes and think, “Playas gonna play.” Yet the reader is constantly regaled with Braydon’s creepiness and Neva’s anguish over not being with him. Seriously, I think more time is spent describing Neva and Braydon’s big not-sex sex scene on page 157 than is spent describing Neva formulating a plan to break into a government compound. That’s right, apparently, this all-powerful government can be infiltrated in less time than it takes to perform a vague sex act. Uh . . . yeah. And don’t get me started about the squickiest female empowerment (?) scene that I have ever encountered. Let’s just say that I now understand why the drawing on the cover is a melodramatic snowflake dripping blood.

However, for all the moments that Dark Parties made me roll my eyes, I must give Grant credit for something important: Her development of Neva. Not only does Neva evolve into a real person, but Grant earns some props for doing something that many authors shy away from: Creating a realistically flawed protagonist. Neva takes responsibility for her actions with Braydon and for her disloyalty to Sanna. She does not shrug the blame onto Braydon, nor does she blame fate. Neva admits that her own actions -- actions which she could have controlled and did not -- lead to her betrayal of her best friend. I dislike her for cheating with Braydon, but I do like that she will own up to her responsibility. I appreciate that Neva has spirit and that as the book progresses, she really does come into her own.

I also really enjoyed the ending (no, not just because it meant the book was over). It was the one surprise in the whole book. Don’t get your hopes up, it wasn’t a really creative surprise. In fact, in a book filled with predictability, this ending was probably just the least obvious of the obvious endings. However, I am pleased that it was the one that Grant chose; it redeemed some of her other failings.

In the end, while there are moments in the novel that made me say, “Huh?”, there are still signs of Grant crafting an interesting book. Dark Parties is well-paced and Neva develops into a character who I feel for and who I want to see succeed (let us never underestimate the importance of creating a character the reader cares about), and the supporting characters such as Sanna and Neva’s parents have dimension to them and do not feel like mere plot devices. I would still prefer 1984 as my dystopian-society novel of choice, but really, it’s hard for me to read any book while I’m shaking my cane and yelling at all those young floozies walking across my lawn.

   -- Katie Hager