All the Truth That's in Me

Love and longing are not unusual subjects in young adult fiction, but in the masterful hands of Julie Berry–“All the Truth That’s in Me” (Viking 2013)—it is new. In measured steps the author shows just what we need to know, offering revelations in nearly every page. Even the village setting is a mystery. It’s historic. But when? Judith, 18, tells the story as if she’s writing a love note that “you” will never receive. She lovingly describes “your” hands pulling a lamb into the world, offering the reader a view of the beloved through her eyes. Yet what of Maria—the town beauty—who is betrothed to “you.” All is hopeless. Besides which Maria has a big heart. How can Judith hate her? “You” turns out to be Lucas, 22, the object of Judith’s affection since they were babies. The narrator also speaks of “him.” As readers, we must turn the pages to discover who that is. Judith doesn’t speak. Why? She has been silenced by a traumatic experience, clearly. But what? Her loving father is gone, her mother is worse than unsympathetic—she’s incriminating. Her younger brother is spoiled and cruel. The story of longing is set within an impending war. When ships are seen 20 miles out to sea the townspeople are panicked. Judith might be able to turn around the village’s devastation? But at what cost? The writing is spare—nothing wasted—as would be true for a person who does not or cannot speak. She writes, “Do you remember the Aldruses logrolling?” In this scene she delivers layers of emotional and informational groundwork. It’s a land-clearing work/party when Judith, 14, was among the anxious young girls presenting their puddings for the lads to sample. The author introduces Lottie who will become central to the mystery, all the while showing the innocence of their lives before the mysterious crisis occurred. This is neatly set amongst sensual details, which allow us to whole-heartedly enter this early American settlement. On page 17, so much is suggested in one sentence: “Your father died the night the town believed he did, and my captor was born from his ashes.” Did I catch the gravity of that line the first time through? It made me turn a page, that’s for sure. This is a love so great Judith will end her life to save Lucas—but there is nothing cheap here. And who was Lottie’s beau? There are so many questions to be answered and you’re so near the end and you still don’t know—until you do. But why did the publisher choose for the cover a bottle blonde with heavy black eye-makeup—the one mystery outside the author’s control and the one that didn’t work for me. Except maybe the overly-complicated title. I’ve tried to entice you without giving spoilers. Forget everything I’ve said and go read this.Patricia Hruby Powell is a nationally touring speaker, dancer, author. Her new work Josephine: The Dazzling Life of Josephine Baker is available at book stores.

In this heart-breaking and heart-warming story about a young, mute woman who has been traumatized by an incident she can't speak about, living in a community where many assume the worst of her, we are treated to a story of courageous renewal, of confidence grown through encouragement and friendship, and eventually, a reckoning of truth that rocks the entire community. There is love, there is friendship, there is sorrow, there are familial relationships both good and bad. Throughout, the prose is gorgeous.

Without doubt this book is worth five stars. A segment of the book was originally a reading assignment, but once I started reading it I had to know the rest of the story. Julie Gardner Berry’s simple prose, written in a diary-like fashion reveal a tale of rejection, misunderstanding, treachery, and a well-deserved triumphal ending. While the subject matter is difficult, she handled it with grace and sensitivity, but some people might find it psychologically too difficult to read.It is refreshing to see a novel where the author understands that explicit content isn’t necessary for a good read. Judith has had a horrifying experience but she’s survived; yet it is apparent that many in her Puritan village feel she shouldn’t have and even blame her for acts she had no control over. Further, they assume the worst and treat her as though she is unclean. One feels for Judith’s pain and admires her tenacity and courage throughout her ordeal, both in her recollections and in her present situation.Throughout the story we are in her mind as she lives on the fringe of society. She is a girl who can never completely lose hope though she tries to convince herself that she can. All her thoughts are directed to one person, Lucas, and she speaks as though she is writing to him. She has loved him all her life and at one point hoped he would return the sentiment, but, having been kidnapped and then mutilated so she cannot speak clearly, she is certain this dream is forever out of her reach. The twists and turns as her tale unwinds are often completely unexpected and leave the reader to think long after the book has been closed. All The Truth That’s In Me was written for a young adult audience, but the story and artful writing make it a great read for older adults as well.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful! I love Judith. I love Lucas.This book should be dedicated to and read by any girl or woman whose voice has been lost or stolen by another.Thank you, Julie Berry. I look forward to meeting you.

"All The Truth That's In Me" is written in a prose I am not accustom to, and I didn't find myself terribly engaged after the first 50 pages or so. I am extremely grateful I did not put it down. The book is, quite simply, outstanding.As I continued my reading, I found myself _needing_ to turn the pages. What I wrongly believed was a simple story transformed into one of multiple dimensions and profound depth. I found myself fretting over tensions I was unsure could be satisfactorily resolved. I learned I had been cleverly deceived into making assumptions that were quite surprisingly (and skillfully) turned upside-down."All The Truth That's In Me" provides the reader with an amazing message of transformation - from darkness to light, from weakness to strength, from cruelty to redemption. I found my-(typically-non-emotional)-self choked up as I read the last few pages.I've passed along the book to my two daughters (12 and 17). I believe that they, too, will love it. More importantly, this book covers some very serious topics worthy of discussion. I'm grateful that, while Julie Berry did not shy away from making the reader uncomfortable, she omitted anything remotely gratuitous and kept the novel well within the bounds of young adult readership.

Judith and another girl disappeared from their small town - after two years, Judith returned alive, but unable to speak - the other girl didn't return at all. Told alternately in the first and second person, both from Judith's point of view, All the Truth That's In Me is a tense and stifling tale. Judith, oppressed, compressed and, er, repressed, is desperate to find some way of speaking out. She wants to tell the boy she loves how she feels. She wants to communicate openly with her mother and brother. She even wants to tell the town the truth of her disappearance. But she doesn't - instead, she lives in silence, and takes some small comfort in the fact that she's become a forgotten non-entity. However, as events spiral further and further out of her control, Judith's forced to choose between the relatively safety of being overlooked and the fearful known of speaking up.The setting of All the Truth That's In Me is, well, a bit weird - something like Colonial America, with a mysterious overseas enemy and religious Puritanism. This only adds to the stifling atmosphere of the book: the town of Roswell Station is tiny and everyone truly lives in one another's lives. It also accentuates Judith's choices (or lack thereof): there is the tiny, horrible, insular known of the town and the great and wild unknown of the rest of the world. Judith has options, but they're extremely limited - leaving her family would mean risking death in the wilderness.The intensity is further ramped up by the shifting point of view. Judith's life revolves around the (not so proverbial) boy next door, a good-hearted neighbour that she's loved since she was a child. Her behaviour isn't exactly... ok... she watches him without him knowing, breaks into his home, touches him while he's napping... and the use of the second person makes these scenes all the more intimate and disturbing. Nor is this ever condoned as ok - Judith's obsessive crush is a result of her own horrible experiences (in the past, and with her family). She's so desperate to find an ideal of love (or basic human warmth) that is is more sad than scary.Judith's uncomfortable stalker-y behaviour is a mirror of the way the rest of the town behaves with her: from her kidnapper to the town gossip to the fire-and-brimstone preacher to the lecherous schoolteacher. Every person in the town forces him or herself into Judith's life, making decisions for her, telling her what to do, watching her every move; it isn't about agency, but about invasion. Everyone is living in her space, in her life. It is claustrophobic. If Judith takes a bit of this power for herself, to watch over her neighbour, it is only a small reflection of the broken, horrible system that rules this society.All the Truth That's In Me does have a plot arc, with a resolution and everything, but the strength of this book isn't in the adventure - Judith's fight to save her town and herself, but in the bigger questions: will a town like this ever be ok? What should Judith do, not only during the course of this book, but after it? Speaking the truth is half the story. What you do next is the rest... Despite attempts to tie everything up at the end, All the Truth That's In Me leaves a lot of unanswered questions, and I'm glad of it - this is a powerful book that prompts a lot of interrogation and, hopefully, conversation.

I read this on the recommendation of my 25-year old daughter & was HUGELY impressed. Other than the age of the main protagonists, there is little to suggest this is YA. The writing is superlative, the characters well drawn & fully rounded and the novel deals with ageless, timeless issues. I won't outline the story here as so many reviewers have already done so. As others have noted, Judith's (supposed) mutism can be viewed as a metaphor for the powerlessness of women. Yet ironically the fact that she is an outcast (precisely because people believe she can't speak) actually frees her from some of the conventions & restrictions imposed on other women. Another reviewer complained that their initial enjoyment of the book was hampered by the fact that they had not been aware before reading that it was an historical novel. Nor was I - but it didn't affect my enjoyment one jot. As I read, I wasn't sure whether the book was set in the past, or in a modern-day Amish-type community. There were even echoes of a dystopian post-apocalyptic future. But such considerations were of no detriment in my view.. I was very quickly drawn into Judith's world and so ceased to question when or where it was set. The writing is to be savoured - literary, poetic yet accessible. The only thing that meant that for me it wasn't quite perfect was the rather too neat & tidy ending. Thatsaid, it is one of those novels that stay with you - the language, the characters, the situation and the questions they raise, Highly recommended...& MUCH too good to be kept solely for the young!

Written in the first person, Judith has had no voice since the day she returned from the dead, and her mother's joy quickly turned to disgust.The book is written in a curious way with the reader having to unravel the backstory for themselves. Identified as a 14+ by the Carnegie Shortlist, the age limit is a good guideline as Judith's story is harrowing, echoing the position of many women today who have no voice. It is set in a specific religious and cultural setting but Berry makes the characters her focus, and despite the historical context they remain accessible.Her only concession to this being a YA novel is the ending, which some may applaud and others may feel is a little too convenient. An intelligent, well written and emotional tale - highly recommended.

A beautiful story about love, dysfunctional family relationships, and fitting in. It is set in an unspecified place and time in a small community with strict sexual mores. The heroine has been kidnapped, had her tongue cut out so she can't tell what has happened to her, and returned to this community. She feels, and is often treated, as if she is to blame for the things that have been done to her. As the book progresses she begins to find her voice and move on from being a victim.

This is a beautiful story that draws you in until you find yourself completely and utterly absorbed, and bereft when the end comes all too quickly and you have to bid farewell to the characters you've met. Wholeheartedly recommended.