Book Review: Think Again (Girls, #5) by Jacqueline Wilson
When Jacqueline Wilson announced a sequel to her beloved Girls series, my heart did a little leap. Like many fans, my relationship with Wilson’s books has been a long-standing affair that began in my pre-teen years and has happily persisted into adulthood. The prospect of an adult-themed installment had me both excited and a tad nervous—what would a Jacqueline Wilson book for grown-ups look like? Would it still carry that charming innocence skewed with occasional poignancy that marked her earlier works? With a curious heart, I dove into Think Again, only to find that the book wears its familiar shoes but takes a somewhat perplexing stride.
At the heart of the narrative is Ellie, now four decades into her life, but somehow still wrapped in the artful haze of a dreamy, judgmental bookworm. While it’s nostalgic to see a character I grew up with, Ellie’s mannerisms scream "stuck in time," which can feel like an anachronism even for someone who delights in the quirks of literature. Her fierce love for classic novels—Mrs. Dalloway, anyone?—is charming until it becomes almost tiresome as she judges those around her for their modern distractions, like scrolling on “mobiles.” It feels like a symbol of a disconnection, one that makes it hard to identify with her as an adult.
The narrative is peppered with Ellie’s fumbles in romance, first with her ex-teacher Gary Windsor, who embodies a frustrating blend of the pompous and the patronizing. Their chemistry feels flat and almost farcical, a contrast to some of Wilson’s earlier adolescent romances that felt more earnest. I realize that in many ways, this is a reflection of the complexities of adult relationships. Still, Ellie’s journey seems unrealistically punctuated by caricatures rather than genuine connections. Although I genuinely appreciated the effort towards LGBTQ+ representation, her explorations of love felt choppy; Alice ticked all the cultural boxes for Ellie, but their meet-cute felt more like a script borrowed from a lackluster rom-com than a relatable or organic encounter.
The writing itself is easy to digest, which might echo the playful simplicity of Wilson’s children’s literature. However, this simplicity sometimes bleeds into shallowness – I found myself yearning for deeper character exploration and a more nuanced narrative progression. The pace picks up towards the ending, which felt rushed and left many plot threads dangling. I wished for more resolutions or at least elaboration on Ellie’s daughter Lottie, who seemed to fade out of the spotlight without clear purpose.
A positive highlight for me was the self-referential nod to Wilson’s prior works, like The Lottie Project, adding a delightful layer for devoted readers. I also enjoyed the realistic depiction of Ellie getting a tattoo, a moment that broke the monotony and brought a touch of authenticity to her character, even if the aftercare was bizarrely overlooked.
In conclusion, Think Again might resonate with longstanding fans of Jacqueline Wilson who are keen to see a somewhat familiar character navigate adult life. However, if you’re looking for profound growth or a gripping storyline, you might find yourself craving something deeper. While I felt a tinge of disappointment, I can’t dismiss the moments of warmth that reminded me why I’ve cherished Wilson’s work over the years. This book is a curious mix of nostalgia and modern awkwardness, leaving me pondering its impact long after the final page. Happy reading!