Karen Russell writes of roadside America, all those little, run-down attractions that used to dot the highways with desperate billboards trying to catch each tourist's fancy-- Just 100 miles away, 50 miles to....., 10 more miles to......., you've just missed...... A dilapidated alligator farm, a collection of giant seashells, big enough to hide in, a retirement home made up of old houseboats, a skating rink with live orangutans, a summer camp for children with sleep disorders, an orphanage for werewolves's daughters. Even people who don't take the time to stop and see what's there spend a few minutes wondering what kind of people would. Just who runs places like that? What would it be like to grow up there?

St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves starts of strong with Ava Wrestles the Alligator and Haunting Olivia, two stories I've reviewed previously. (I put them both on the list of 1001 Short Stories You Must Read Before You Die.) Both deal with two siblings--girls in one, boys in the other--on their own for the summer, parents away dealing with problems of loss. The children try to make sense of their worlds and their family's neglect of them in whatever way they can. Their imaginations play such a strong role in their lives that the both stories begin to border on fantasy, the reader begins to wonder what is real in each.

Unfortunately, the remainder of the stories decline in quality. I enjoyed "Z.Z.'z Sleep-Away Camp for Disordered Dreamers" and "Out to Sea," but the novelty of each story's unusual setting and unusual premise began to wear off well before the last story in the collection. The early stories used their fantastic premises and fanciful plot elements to say something about the human condition. But by the end of the collection what had been insightful seems merely clever. What insight into ourselves can we gain from a story about girls raised by wolves who are trained to function in the human world? We learn that afterwards they are no longer wolves, they cannot ever return to their wolf families. You can't go home again. I expected more of a payoff than that. But the stories in St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves that do payoff, payoff well. The fanciful plot elements draw the reader into the childhood worlds Karen Russell explores, worlds that can be as imaginary as they are real. Child's play can take very serious turns in it's attempt to make sense of the adult world.

Karen Russell, at age 24, has received high praise for her collection. She's been featured on National Public Radio, named one of the Best Young American novelists by Granta without actually having published a novel, and has something of a following already. I hope this doesn't end up hurting her writing in the long run. While I'm not recommending anyone buy St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves I am looking forward to more from Karen Russell. What's good in her collection is very good. Unfortunately, success can lead a writer to focus on what succeeded, instead of on what was good. ( )

stories: Ava Wrestles the Alligator / Haunting Olivia / Z.Z.'s Sleep-Away Camp for Disordered Dreamers / The Star-Gazer's Log of Summer-Time Crime / from Children's Reminiscences of the Westward Migration / Lady Yeti and the Palace of Artificial Snows / The City of Shells / Out to Sea / Accident Brief, Occurrence # 00/422 / St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves

I loved, loved, loved the writing...but didn't much care for the fact that most of the stories just sort of stop. Often I'd become invested in the characters and story, only to come too quickly to the last line and wonder where the rest went. This would be more aptly titled: St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves: Vignettes. Still, the writing itself is beautiful, and I'd certainly read more by this author. ( )

Childhood is an unreal world. Children are surrounded by giants with unusual motivations and trying to understand them (or worse, become them) is confusing and frightening. The rules of friendship, devotion, maturation, and secrets are opaque and ever-changing. “When you’re a kid, it’s hard to tell the innocuous secrets from the ones that will kill you if you keep them,” Russell reminds us. Russell captures this and translates these worries, fears, and horrors for us adults. Her attempts at translation make the stories sound magical, or just plain weird, to an adult. We no longer have to imagine how our children view us (because we do forget). Russell has written this book.

She reminds us how important parents are to children, especially how we are viewed in their eyes, in “from Children’s Reminiscences of the Westward Migration.” Though the notion of having the Minotaur for a father is mystical, having parents who fight and then mysteriously make up the next day is not. Wondering how your father sees you is not. “I have been eagerly awaiting just such a disaster. Storms, wolves, snakebite, floods—these are the occasions to find out how your father sees you, how strong and necessary he thinks you are,” the Minotaur’s son tells us. It’s only after reading it that I realized how true that statement is. She peppers her fables and tall tales with these truisms.

If you ever want to see how protective a child can feel about his parents, read “Lady Yeti and the Palace of Artificial Snow.” And if you ever wonder to what lengths children regularly go to please parents, read “Accident Brief, Occurrence #00/422.”

Stories capturing the fears of becoming an adult include “Ava wrestles and Alligator” and the title story. The girls in these two stories have such amazing and unbelievable back stories; Ava is left to mind a teenaged older sister who is possessed by male demons and left in charge of an alligator ranch in the middle of nowhere. The girls at St. Lucy’s must leave their werewolf parents and learn to become real humans. And yet these story elements feel normal when the narrators describe their lives. What isn’t normal is becoming a young lady or encountering sexuality. Those are frightening. Werewolf parents and tame alligators are not. Even changing how the world is viewed is frightening, especially when our friends start leaving us behind, as is covered in “Z.Z.’s Sleep-Away Camp for Disordered Dreamers.”

As I was reading these stories, I just kept saying “This is so weird.” I said it so often, my boyfriend decided he had to read the book (this is not a small feat). As grownups, we are lucky enough to have forgotten all our childish fears and misgivings. As parents, these stories can remind us of what are children are going through. There is rarely clear resolution in these stories. While this is occasionally unsatisfying, I realize that Russell isn’t giving us plot, and plot is the only thing that can be resolved nicely. She is giving us a glimpse of the people we wish we weren’t-our younger selves. And those are never resolved. ( )

Wonderful, lovely, quirky stories of adolescence in the swamps of Florida. ( )

This is BRILLIANT.

I picked it up last night at about seven and had read 76 pages by eight. The writing is gorgeous and the subjects are so beautifully absurd that I couldn't help myself. And the children-- this is the best writing about children that I have ever read, even though the children are in wildly unreal situations. Children of minotaurs? Children who have magical sleep disorders? Children raised by, as the title suggests, wolves? All yes. And all better, more real, than anything I have ever read about children before, ever. It's the emotions that she picks up on, see, that make it so excellent. That and the barrel-ahead, cut-you-up intensity of her writing.

Help, I have only five years until I am ALSO twenty-five! What if I don't have an insanely good book published by then? This is too good a standard for people to be setting, honestly. I think I'm doomed. ( )