Punkzilla
Punkzilla
Select a format:
Perma-Bound from Publisher's Hardcover ©2009--
To purchase this item, you must first login or register for a new account.
Candlewick Press
Annotation: An award-winning writer and playwright hits the open road for a searing novel-in-letters about a street kid on a highstakes trek across America. Contains Mature Material
 
Reviews: 10
Catalog Number: #34458
Format: Perma-Bound from Publisher's Hardcover
Special Formats: Inventory Sale Inventory Sale Mature Content Mature Content
Common Core/STEAM: Common Core Common Core
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Copyright Date: 2009
Edition Date: 2009 Release Date: 05/12/09
Pages: 244 pages
ISBN: Publisher: 0-7636-3031-4 Perma-Bound: 0-605-23926-6
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-0-7636-3031-7 Perma-Bound: 978-0-605-23926-5
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 2008935655
Dimensions: 20 cm.
Language: English
Reviews:
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Wed Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

Starred Review The 61-word run-on sentence on the first page sets the stream-of-consciousness tone, and then two pages later there's hand jobs and meth p, it's a Rapp novel, all right. And the quality hits the high standards of 33 Snowfish (2003) and Under the Wolf, Under the Dog (2004). Fourteen-year-old Jamie (aka "Punkzilla") has gone AWOL from his military school, is off his meds, and is making his way from Oregon to Memphis, where his older brother, Peter, is dying of cancer. Though he is thankful to leave behind his career as an iPod thief, life on the road doesn't seem much better: his fellow Greyhound riders are frightening, he gets jumped in a roadside restroom, and his androgynous features land him in increasingly disturbing situations. You expect such bleakness from Rapp, but it's the flashes of humor and optimism that exhilarate. Beneath a surface of disease, despair, and disfigurements, Rapp's road trip is populated with good souls who, despite their circumstances, make significant sacrifices to help Punkzilla. Rapp constructs the book as a series of unsent letters to Peter and punctuates them with correspondence, some old enough to be heartbreakingly out of date, that Punkzilla has received from friends and family. This is devastating stuff, but breathtaking, too.

Horn Book (Sat Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

Traveling to visit his brother who's dying of cancer, fourteen-year-old Jamie writes letters. These are interspersed with earlier missives written to Jamie, and gradually his troubled history emerges: time on the streets, punctuated by drugs, sex, and crime. With his quirky idiomatic expressions, striking word choices, and stream-of-consciousness prose, nobody writes about disposable, marginalized youth quite like Adam Rapp.

Kirkus Reviews

Rapp mines his Midwestern roots for another well-realized tale of raw teenage woe. Fourteen-year-old Jamie (aka "Punkzilla" due to his love of the music) has gone AWOL from military school and is living in a halfway house in Portland, Ore., when he gets the news that his eldest brother Peter, a gay playwright, is dying of cancer in Memphis. Desperate to see P before he dies, Jamie embarks on a cross-country journey that reads like a contemporary version of On the Road . Along the way, he encounters myriad societal dropouts, many of whom function as his bargain-bin guardian angels. Narrated in an out-of-order, epistolary manner, the tale contains the author's familiar themes of isolation, societal rejection and the invisibility of the rural poor. But his cast of disenfranchised characters is so authentically rendered (dim Bucktooth Jenny talks to her collection of doll heads, kindly transsexual Lewis cooks Jamie a hotplate meal) that fans of his gritty YA fare will be more than happy to be in his company again. (Fiction. 14 & up)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

At 14, pot-smoking, DVD player-stealing Jamie is no angel (though his androgynous good looks get him plenty of attention). He is sent to military school, but soon goes AWOL, spending some rough months in Portland, Ore. (mugging joggers, trying meth), before heading to Memphis by Greyhound bus to visit his gay older brother, Peter, who is dying of cancer. Rapp (<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">Under the Wolf, Under the Dog) tells the story through Jamie's unsent letters, with additional letters from relatives and friends giving more background and context. Jamie, who has ADD, details every step (being taken advantage of sexually, getting jumped, befriending a female-to-male transsexual, losing his virginity) in expletive-filled, stream-of-consciousness narration with insights into seedy roadside America (“I think that as a general rule lonely people give other lonely people money a lot”) and his own situation. Whether Jamie will survive his bad luck and make it to Memphis in time gives the story tension, but while Jamie leaves much behind each day on the road, little is found. The teenager's singular voice and observations make for an immersive reading experience. Ages 14–up. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(May)

School Library Journal (Wed Jul 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

Gr 9 Up-Fourteen-year-old Jamiestreet name Punkzillais AWOL from military school. Hes already lived hand to mouth in a west coast city, stealing iPods, doing cheap drugs, and getting the occasional joyless hand job. Now he is headed to Memphis where his oldest brother, Peter, a gay playwright, is dying from cancer. His story is told through his letters to Peter as he hitchhikes across the country, written in the backseats of cars, under a tree where a man hanged himself, and ultimately in retrospect when he reaches his journeys sad end. Along the way he meets the good, the bad, and the skewed, including a girl who gives him his first experience of loving intercourse. Like his brother, punk boy Jamie will never fulfill the expectations of his rigidly conservative father or meet the needs of his ineffectual mother. As in 33 Snowfish (Candlewick, 2003), Rapp pulls no punches in depicting the degrading life of children on the streets. The choice to live free from parents and school comes at a costto survive Jamie becomes both exploited and exploiter. But there is more here than the sordid streets. Impulsive and naive as he may be, Jamie is struggling for something that just might come close to integrity. Readers can see the good in him and even in his infuriating parents. In the end he finds shelter with his brothers lover, who opens the door to the creative life, a more intelligent and focused world-outside-the-box where Jamie just might find what he needs. Exquisitely true in its raw but vulnerable voice, this story is a compulsive read. Carolyn Lehman, Humboldt State University, Arcata, CA

Voice of Youth Advocates

Fourteen-year-old Jamie, known as ôPunkzilla,ö journeys across the country hoping to get to Tennessee before Peter, his older brother, dies from cancer. Told entirely through brutally honest (and curse-word filled) letters that Jamie writes as he travels, his story reveals what it has been like since he ran away from military school. Jamie tells of his life in Portland, where he lived in a low-income community populated by bizarre characters. He writes to his brother about his drug use, his sexual encounters, and his ôjobö robbing runners. Although Jamie is no fan of traditional punctuation, he has a real way with words and embellishes his already engaging and strange tales with unusual imagery. As he travels to Tennessee, Jamie meets odd, interesting, and dangerous people. Willing to do almost anything for a free ride, place to sleep, or meal, Jamie often finds himself in bad situations, but he never dwells too long on anything, determined to get to his brother no matter what it takes. It is sometimes difficult to remember that Jamie is only fourteen. He is a heartbreaking mess, and the addition of letters from his family members and friends help to fill in JamieÆs complicated history. Although he is self-reliant and keeps up this tough street-punk attitude, it is easy to see how Jamie is just a kid who made some bad choices and fell in with some unsavory people. JamieÆs frenetic writing style adds to the already tense, gritty plot, making it difficult to set the novel down.ùAmanda MacGregor.

Reviewing Agencies: - Find Other Reviewed Titles
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Wed Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)
ALA/YALSA Best Book For Young Adults
Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
Horn Book (Sat Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)
Kirkus Reviews
Michael Printz Honor
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
School Library Journal (Wed Jul 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)
Voice of Youth Advocates
Wilson's High School Catalog
Word Count: 54,550
Reading Level: 6.2
Interest Level: 9-12
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 6.2 / points: 9.0 / quiz: 129827 / grade: Upper Grades
Reading Counts!: reading level:12.9 / points:14.0 / quiz:Q46631
Lexile: 1200L
Guided Reading Level: Z+
Fountas & Pinnell: Z+
March 4, 2008

Dear P,

Hey.

I'm finally writing you back. I've been carrying your letter around in my pocket so it's pretty wrinkled but you have good penmanship or cursive or whatever they call it so it's still totally readable. It actually looks like Mom's writing and I never knew that about you.

I've been meaning to write back for like weeks I swear P but every time I started to do it I would get distracted like I'd have some shit to do or I couldn't find a pen or something. I've never been much of a writer anyway even though this one time in seventh grade I was in detention for skipping class and I had to do this five hundred word essay on politeness and after she read my essay the woman who was running detention this substitute teacher everyone called Mrs. Boobjob told me I had an unusual gift. She wound up giving my essay to this English teacher Mr. Douglas-Roberts and he invited me into a special composition class but I got kicked out right away for chirping like a bird during this thing called an automatic writing exercise. I haven't really written anything for a while so I hope this letter doesn't suck too bad.

So I'm on a Greyhound bus and the driver's wearing a hockey mask. It's clear instead of white and you can see his skin all slimy and pressed up against the mask. When I got on he said hello and his voice was clogged and small. I think he has some sort of infection on his face and I can't tell if he's black or Mexican.

I'm wearing this hoodie I found the other day and I wish I had something a little warmer. Man I feel like shit. I have the chills and I should've eaten something but I'll have to wait for the next refueling point which the driver said would be somewhere in Idaho.

P I've been living in Portland for five months and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I probably won't really know for years because that's how it works right? You don't really develop feelings about a place till you've left it. It's like a girl or a dog like that black Lab E brought home after his pony league game that dog Sarge. Remember how Mom accidentally backed over him with the Olds and how you said he made that squealing sound? I miss that dog even though he only lived with us for a summer. Remember how you used to do that trick where you would put extracrunchy peanut butter on the sprinkler in the front yard and he would start licking the peanut butter off and then you would turn on the sprinkler and he wouldn't stop even though the water was shooting everywhere and he would flip his weird spotted tongue around all crazy and then you would do the fake Fifty Cent voice and it would be like Sarge was really busting rhymes or something.

To be honest I've never really had a girlfriend to miss. I've gotten off here and there but I'm basically talking about hand jobs. I don't mean to be weird P but in your letter you said how you wanted the truth about stuff even if it's ugly and trust me it's going to get a little ugly. Uglier than my skittery penmanship if skittery is even a word.

I can still feel the effects of the meth that me and this kid Branson did last night. It was my first time trying it and it made everything taste aluminum so I didn't feel like eating anything and now I'm totally fucking starving but I already said that right? To be honest P I'm so nervous I can practically feel my bones rattling around under my skin.

The bus smells pretty bad like mold and breath and piss from the bathroom and disinfectant they used to try to cover it up and the back of the seat in front of me has a sticker on it that says jobops.com which is somehow making the smells worse. Out my window the sky is so dark it's almost brown like a bunch of German shepherds got stuck up there. I imagine them snarling and baring their yellow teeth at this shit world and all of its disappointments. That's pretty much all I can see the sickly sky and rain streaking slantways across the glass

Excerpted from Punkzilla by Adam Rapp
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

An award-winning writer and playwright hits the open road for a searing novel-in-letters about a street kid on a highstakes trek across America.

For a runaway boy who goes by the name "Punkzilla," kicking a meth habit and a life of petty crime in Portland, Oregon, is a prelude to a mission: reconnecting with his older brother, a gay man dying of cancer in Memphis. Against a backdrop of seedy motels, dicey bus stations, and hitched rides, the desperate fourteen-year-old meets a colorful, sometimes dangerous cast of characters. And in letters to his sibling, he catalogs them all — from an abusive stranger and a ghostly girl to a kind transsexual and an old woman with an oozing eye. The language is raw and revealing, crackling with visceral details and dark humor, yet with each interstate exit Punkzilla’s journey grows more urgent: will he make it to Tennessee in time? This daring novel offers a narrative worthy of Kerouac and a keen insight into the power of chance encounters.


*Prices subject to change without notice and listed in US dollars.
Perma-Bound bindings are unconditionally guaranteed (excludes textbook rebinding).
Paperbacks are not guaranteed.
Please Note: All Digital Material Sales Final.