Set on an island near both Thailandand Cambodiain 1974 during the Vietnam War, Lost Girls by Ann Kelley is Lord of the Flies on estrogen. Although Kelley borrows heavily from William Golding’s tale—down to wild boars and broken glasses—she doesn’t perform the rich psychological study of her predecessor. Still, in fourteen-year-old protagonist Bonnie MacDonald, readers note traits of both Piggy and Ralph, and in Hope, we see a blending of Piggy and Simon. The twenty-something redhead Layla Campbell and her cohorts, the Glossies, reflect Jack and his minions.Bonnie’s family is from Scotland, transplanted in southeast Asia by the war. Members of the Amelia Earhart Cadets, the girls set off on a three-day camping expedition that gets extended by wartime complications. Early in the story, eerily wondering about their abandoned state, Bonnie is convinced that the cadets will make a better showing than Golding’s boys: “We won’t become savages. . . .Girls wouldn’t act that way. We’re much more civilized” (45). Readers will have to decide how the girls fare on the savagery and cruelty scale.
Besides recycling a plot, Kelley weaves other allusions into her novel, with the wisdom of Phaedrus providing consistent inspiration to Bonnie, who has brought Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig on the trip. The ensuing island events test Bonnie’s values as she goes from caring and kind to callous and angry. The word lost takes on multiple meanings for Bonnie, who grows disillusioned by adult irresponsibility, questions the definition of quality, and wonders at advice like the SAS motto, “Who dares wins!” Bonnie realizes that in some situations, bravery just isn’t enough. She also learns that we often condemn people without a hearing and that when hope seems lost, we need to find the will to go on. Bonnie obtains sustenance from her Scottish folk songs, suggesting that identity is rooted in place and that place has healing powers. Another source of strength comes from friendship, from chief cadet Jasmine. Despite her good-at-everything status, no one envies Jas, a rare, sweet girl: “She’s the sort of girl who would give you her last piece of chocolate, she doesn’t gossip, and she can keep a secret” (12)—a fair definition of friendship when you’re fourteen.
- Posted by Donna