For as long as Josephine Alibrandi can remember, it’s just been her, her mom, and her grandmother. Now it’s her final year at a wealthy Catholic high school. The nuns couldn’t be any stricter—but that doesn’t seem to stop all kinds of men from coming into her life.
Caught between the old-world values of her Italian grandmother, the nononsense wisdom of her mom, and the boys who continue to mystify her, Josephine is on the ride of her life. This will be the year she falls in love, the year she discovers the secrets of her family’s past—and the year she sets herself free.
Told with unmatched depth and humor, this novel—which swept the pool of Australian literary awards and became a major motion picture—is one to laugh through and cry with, to cherish and remember.
In theory this book is alright. I know plenty of people that loved it - my sister (who is renowned for her ability to read signs - and sometimes branching out to menus) is one of those, but something about this book really irritated me. Perhaps it was the plight of the main character being so damn obvious or perhaps I'm being too harsh but I hated it. Conversely I am in love with Saving Francesca by said author. Take that as you will.
