It’s the start of Jordan Sun’s junior year at the Kensington-Blaine Boarding School for the Performing Arts. Unfortunately, she’s an Alto 2, which—in the musical theatre world—is sort of like being a vulture in the wild: She has a spot in the ecosystem, but nobody’s falling over themselves to express their appreciation. So it’s no surprise when she gets shut out of the fall musical for the third year straight.
Then the school gets a mass email: A spot has opened up in the Sharpshooters, Kensington’s elite a cappella octet. Worshiped … revered … all male. Desperate to prove herself, Jordan auditions in her most convincing drag, and it turns out that Jordan Sun, Tenor 1, is exactly what the Sharps are looking for.
Holy cow, I love this book.
- First and foremost, everything rings true, from the overarching issues (race, gender, class, identity) to small details (what it’s like to be part of a music group, theatre department politics). Some of it is from the author’s own experience, some of it is from careful research and consideration, and all of it is appreciated.
- The intersectionality is real. In the first chapter Jordan doesn’t get cast in the school musical and asks the director why. All the options run through her head – is it because I’m not white? Or because I’m taller than the prospective leading men? This feeling, this ‘what’s the strike against me this time’, is real for many and I’m so happy to see it addressed on the page.
- Likewise all the gender issues are thoughtfully and thoroughly considered. I won’t go into detail for fear of spoiling things, so here’s a quote after Jordan starts dressing as a guy:
I’d set down the burdens of being a girl, unstrapped them one by one and left them on the roadside, but my shoulders didn’t feel any lighter. They were carrying different, unfamiliar weights now. As I stood there in that derelict husk of a theater, I felt like I’d gotten lost in between my lives, and the road ahead looked long and strange and poorly lit.
- There are subtle pokes at the reader to check in with themselves and see how they’re doing regarding these issues.
With so many queer kids at Kensington, people sometimes got weirdly comfortable, like they had a free pass to say anything they wanted about sexuality. I guess it was tempting to stick a rainbow-colored “Ally” pin on your backpack and call it a day, as if that were the endpoint, not the starting line.
- Redgate name drops songs – this is a book about a cappella, after all – but none of them are real. It’s genius. The story will never date itself by the cultural references within, ensuring that people reading it even twenty years from now will feel a minimal amount of generational whiplash.
- The plot never stops moving, the banter is fun, you can feel the found family that forms within the Sharps, and you watch Jordan discover who they are. It’s a delightful journey that I look forward to revisiting.
The only not-so-good thing I can think of is that I was shipping a different couple. That’s it. So minor.
In sum, Noteworthy is a diverse, inclusive YA novel that’s compulsively readable and a whole lot of fun. And it’s full of a cappella! What more could you want?
Thanks to Amulet Books and NetGalley for providing a review copy.