"If you are or you know a smart young reader who's ready for something
different, Koja's YA books like Going Under are like nothing you've ever
read before.
And if you're an adult, Koja's YA novels are a visit to the horrors and wonders of adolescence, a ticket to a world where young people aren't mere literary devices, but their own species, separate and whole; vulnerable and strong." -- BoingBoing.net
"Koja has once again created a rich psychological drama whose characters
will not be easily forgotten....The crystal-clear narrative voices of Hilly
and Ivan create a constant dual perspective that, along with Hilly's stories
and decoy journals, raise fascinating questions about the complex layers of
truth and identity that can exist within a single person or story." -- The Horn Book
"This novel mixes themes of betrayal, independence, and psychological
manipulation with recognizable ancient Greek myths in a modern-day setting.
Well executed in its setup, in its foreboding aura, and in the feel of each
personŐs voice . . . [T]he sense of paranoia and mythological references will
resonate with deeply felt significance."
-- School Library Journal
"Going Under is definitely a page-turner...with the brilliant prose that
actually sounded more like poetry....It doesn't compare to any other young
adult novel; it is, in fact, like nothing I've read. Highly original, this
story gets into your head and stays there." -- Flamingnet, Student Reviewer
"This stream-of-consciousness novel interweaves the intricate relationship
between a brother and sister with the myths of Persephone and Narcissus . . . . The characters are well-defined, and their relationship is quite involved." -- VOYA
"The voices of Ivan and Hilly alternate throughout this haunting novel
infused with Greek mythology."
-- The Detroit Free Press Excerpt from Going Under
He wore that chain-link bracelet, remember? I know you remember. Dull silver links like steel, but really expensive, you could tell; while he talked he played with it, it made a little sound, /clink-clink/. He sat
watching me from a low-backed red chair. He had a tan.
Miss Polo, he said.
I put my hand to my mouth, put it back down. The blinds on the window made soft shadow bars on the wall. The room smelled like lemon, clean and cool.
Miss Polo, you're here for a reason. Do you want to tell me what it is?
It was so strange. When I looked at him, all I wanted to do was look away. Like backwards magnets. Repulsion, it's called. I let the silence hang for a long time, until finally My parents are worried, I said.
Why is that?
Because my friend got sad and killed herself. Because they're afraid I might get sadder and kill myself. Because I spend a lot of time crying, or hiding in the backyard under a plastic tarp, writing a journal no one knows about. Stuff like that.
Ask them, I said.
There were two books on his desk, one called Persephone's Crisis, and some other thing about fairy tales. Once Ada had me rewrite a bunch of fairy tales for some contest. In my version, Little Red Riding Hood grew up and became the wolf. And Cinderella ran away from home in her glass slippers.
I've already spoken to your parents. What's your reason for being here?
I pictured you out in the waiting room, reading Coliseum, sipping your water; I couldn't wait to get back out there again. To be safe . . . . The smell of lemons. The bars on the walls. There were a lot of answers I could have given, but in the end the truth was easiest: Because of my brother, I said.
