Slugfest

This contemporary novel is funny, and it zings along at top speed, pulling readers from one wacky character and heart pounding, often silly situation to another. As any Gordon Korman fan will expect, the writing and twisty plotline make it a delightful read.

The main character, Yash, is a middle-school jock sought-after by high school teams. But, due to an unfortunate academic credit error, he is forced to take a poorly-regarded middle-school summer class the kids refer to as “Slugfest” in order to graduate into high school.

Yash enters this program with all the attitude and low expectations you’d expect. His program mates aren’t necessary enthralled with him, either, at first. And each have their own agenda and eccentricities.

Add in a conspiracy theory about the highly unusual gym teacher (who feels like a Brownie leader the way she keeps them stocked in baked goods while assigning them toddler-style exercise programs) and a new kid in town who threatens to undermine Yash’s intention of returning to his usual heroic sports roles in the fall, and you bump into a series of surprises. Combine that with tough challenges and moral decisions both Yash and his Slugfest mates have to make to pass the class and maintain dignity, and the plot requires entertaining, drastic action.

The plot is mostly believable, the climax is nail-biting, and the language is appropriate to reader age. The theme involves tamping down ego in order to learn to respect the best in each individual and work together. The resolution, indeed, is heartwarming.

The only problem with Slugfest is the number of characters it tries to squeeze in: basically, more than half a dozen Slugfest team members. Chapter One is in Yash’s first-person point of view, but most of the other teen characters get their own first-person points of view in succeeding chapters. In fact, Yash gets eleven chapters in total (initially every other one, then spaced ever farther apart), two others get six chapters each, another gets three chapters, and most of the others get one. You never know whose head you’re going to pop into next!

This guarantees we don’t get to know any of the characters (pretty much half girls, half boys) well. Indeed, it means each character is more or less unidimensional. They seem to have one character trait emphasized, exaggerated and played on every time they appear. (Example: twins Sarah and Stuart do nothing but fight with each other, which is annoying, unrealistic, shallow and cliché-ish, say I who grew up with twin sisters.) Also, strangely, Yash doesn’t even get the final word, in that the last chapter isn’t in his point of view.

The multiple POV issue also inevitably leads to reader confusion as to who’s on stage at any given moment. (Yeah, check the chapter title because personality quirks and manners of speaking don’t always make it immediately clear). In that respect only, Slugfest feels, well, all over the place.

On the other hand, Korman ensures each character has at least a nano-arc of insight and growth, and, by the end, Yash redefines heroic in a pleasing way.

Overall, Slugfest’s fun and entertaining, but perhaps not one of Korman’s best. Then again, anyone keen on a fast-moving sports tale suffused with humour and eccentric middle-schoolers will love it anyway.