A Journey into Messy Perfect — Finding Grace in Chaos
There’s something magical about diving into a new book by an author whose work you’ve cherished before. Tanya Boteju has an incredible knack for weaving rich, emotionally resonant stories, and having already enjoyed both Bruised and Kings, Queens, and In-Betweens, I was thrilled to explore her latest release, Messy Perfect. It caught my attention not only for its intriguing premise but also for its exploration of identity within a religious context—something I personally find deeply compelling.
Messy Perfect introduces us to Cassie Perera, the epitome of a perfect student at her Catholic high school—top grades, a star athlete, and an active volunteer. But when her childhood best friend Ben reappears after years apart, Cassie is forced to confront her past and her carefully curated life. This emotional turbulence leads her to initiate an underground GSA, unleashing a whirlwind of self-discovery and growth.
From the start, I found myself rooting for Cassie. Her relentless drive mirrored a significant part of my own high school experience, and I felt an almost visceral connection to her struggles with perfectionism and her sense of identity. The authenticity of her character was beautifully developed, and Boteju skillfully illustrated how Cassie’s achievements were rooted in her desire to mend her past guilt toward Ben—a guilt that loomed large over their friendship. Ben brought his own layer of complexity to the story, and his plot twist had me chuckling and nodding along, showcasing Boteju’s clever narrative techniques.
One of the standout elements for me was the nuanced portrayal of varying perspectives on faith and identity. I appreciated how the book showcased a spectrum of beliefs within the church, from those wanting to break free from its confines to others finding a way to merge their faith with their sexual identity. Boteju handled these themes with compassion, inviting readers to consider the intricacies of their own beliefs. It’s a refreshing take, especially for those of us who grew up in similar environments.
However, I did find myself wrestling with a few aspects of the plot. Particularly, the notion that a modern school could operate without security cameras in public areas felt a bit implausible. In a world increasingly dictated by surveillance, the idea that the GSA’s actions would go undetected struck me as a stretch. Additionally, while the inclusion of various queer identities was commendable, I noticed the absence of trans feminine representation. This omission stood out, especially given the richness of diversity showcased elsewhere in the narrative. It’s a reminder that representation is a moving target that still requires our attention.
Ultimately, Messy Perfect left me feeling hopeful and inspired. Boteju’s storytelling has once again captivated me with its warmth and depth, making it a journey well worth taking. This book resonates particularly with young people navigating their own identities, especially those coming from religious backgrounds—it’s a beautiful reminder that perfection is often messy, and that’s perfectly okay. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone searching for a story that embraces both struggle and grace.
Thank you to HarperCollins for providing an ARC of this delightful read!