Jen Violi

Putting Makeup on Dead People is a debut, by Jen Violi, that should have gotten so much more attention—so much more. Since her father’s death four years earlier, Donna has been just going through the motions; isolated from everyone with no real friends, without a real relationship with her mother, and with no idea what she wants to do after high school’s over.


That all changes, though, while at a classmates funeral. Standing by the coffin, Donna realizes there just might be something show more for her, comforting people in death. She just might want to be a mortician.

The discovery sets Donna’s new life in motion. She makes friends with a new student, notices a boy – who might be noticing her, too – and throws herself into mortuary studies. Despite what her mother will think.

By taking risks and doing what she really wants, Donna looks to discover who she really is – the girl who was hidden under all that grief for the past several years.


Putting Makeup on Dead People is a novel about transformation and self-discovery in possibly the most unique guise I’ve ever seen (or, rather, read). Jen Violi has found a super innovative way of dealing with death, grief, and moving on. It’s easy to get so wrapped in the story of what Donna wants to do, what she is doing, that you don’t realize it’s a story about her growth – it becomes simply a story about Donna.

Violi writes Putting Makeup so well that her prose seems easy. It just flows. Nothing’s choppy or stumbles. It’s …easy.

I really loved that Donna wanted to be something unique (to her and the characters) that actually was unique. There are times when someone in a book wants to be something that is supposed to be terribly different but really they just don’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer, etc. Donna wanting to be a mortician actually is a bit different and I enjoyed that. I also enjoyed that it wasn’t treated as a joke and was researched, treated with respect.

Jen Violi’s debut was definitely a lot more under the radar than most its season/year but definitely not due to its quality. show less

Everyone who has seen me with this book in hand has commented on the cover. It's strange, right? Upside down face with flowers. Then you read the title: Putting Makeup On Dead People. And you think, what? That's a dead person on the cover! The title and the cover are both captivating. I was really excited when I won this book from April at My Shelf Confessions! Thanks, April!

Confession time: I lost my stepfather, a man who had been in my life as a father figure for a long time, when I was show more just 23 years old after four years of battling cancer. I think as we get older, we accept that our parents won't be around forever, but 23 is too young to lose a parent. Even when you've had time to prepare. Because no one is prepared. And to be quite honest, it's harder on the survivors than those who slowly pass away, because we have to live with the after. "After" can be quite a bitch.

And that's why Putting Makeup On Dead People sucked me right in. Told in the first person, it follows the story of Donna Parisi, a senior in high school, as she deals with the aftermath of losing her father four years earlier. She has friends, and yet she still feels lost and alone. She attends church with her mother and siblings, but she's a robot going through the motions. I identified with her on so many levels. Everything she felt, I felt. Jen Violi writes such a terrific, heartening story of finding oneself, carefully weaving the fabric of it for our own pleasure.
Violi MUST be Italian; she nailed the Italian-American family right on the head, describing the wails of loss, and family members virtually throwing themselves into loved ones' graves, not to mention the extended family dynamics. It all felt really, really familiar.
Putting Makeup On Dead People is excellent. More than just a first-person story, it also details the transformation teenagers go through as they reach through youth to adulthood and begin making their own decisions. Life's hard, and sometimes we don't realize it until we feel like we're all we've got, teaching ourselves self-sufficiency. Donna, in particular, decides to scrap University of Dayton, the institution where she has already been accepted, and attend mortuary school. Death fascinates her and I think she yearns to understand it on a level some of us never will.
I liked how each chapter ended: with a short memo of the funeral of the moment. Those were like little candies hidden throughout the novel, and I laughed at most of them, because frankly, people can really be that ridiculous!

If you enjoy Young Adult, and don't mind a slightly morbid flair, grab this right now and go read it. I promise you won't be disappointed. show less

Violi, J. (2011). Putting makeup on dead people. New York: Hyperion. 330 pp. ISBN: 978-1-4231-3481-7. (Hardcover); $16.99.*

Come on! Isn’t the title alone enough of a reason to purchase this one for your high school library? At the funeral of a classmate, Donna notices the eyeliner and pale eye shadow on the dead body. A bit later she meets Joe Brighton, the worker who put the simple base coat on Donna’s father when he died. If these two sentences seem off putting, avoid this book. If show more quirky dark humor appeals to you, if you are a fan of Love Curse of the Rumbaughs, you will enjoy this young adult version of Deborah Wiles’ Each Little Bird that Sings. Donna has melted into her grief after the death of her father. She virtually needs lessons on how to say hello and interact socially. Noticing the makeup on the corpse is the beginning of Donna’s new career goal to become a mortician. Violi has a wicked sense of humor that serves this macabre dead people fashion show story: “Linnie’s long hair hangs in green-and-black stripes—a little painful on the eyes right next to Snooter’s bright red spikes. It’s like Christmas and Death had babies.” (p. 163). In the midst of the dead bodies and burials, however, is a very sweet story of Donna learning, once again, to join the living, to take chances, to love, and to grow. show less

I'm probably the only person that cried over this funny, compassionate book about growing up, discovering yourself, and coping with life after the death of a loved one, but we all know that I am a huge weepy sap, anyway. I love character-driven stories, and while this one doesn't exactly go where I expected (because it is also largely plotless, with a lot of interesting avenues -- mortuary school classes, for example -- left unexplored), it also gave me a satisfying, meaningful experience. I show more connected with Donna's slightly off sense of humor, her observations of the people around her, and her frequent insights into her own life that still don't result in immediate changes in her thinking or behavior. Donna is confused and sad and hilarious and very real. Violi's writing is expressive and unique, and she does a great job conveying complicated emotional stuff in small, simple ways. There's some really great stuff in here and I can't wait to see what Violi does next. show less