I don’t know if there is any real accounting for how much I liked this classic YA book. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier just struck me as a very well-written book, nailing the concept and the genre on the head while also feeling fresh, even 50 years after its publication. Even though it’s kinda, basically Lord of the Flies crossed with The Godfather. And football. In just about any sort of algorithm or calculation, this book should not have been my jam. What can I say? I admire talent—and enjoy it—wherever I find it.

Jerry is a freshman and new to his parochial, boys’ school. He is still reeling from the death of his mother, but he believes he’ll find something in football, even if he’s a little small for the game. The only other option to fit in is boxing. But fitting in during the annual chocolate fundraiser is going to be up to The Vigils, the secret society that runs the school through cruel pranks and veiled threats. And when Jerry decides not to sell any chocolates, well, he has no idea the violence and mob mentality that he’s pitted himself against.

I read this book because of a book club. This book club does not traditionally read YA, but they are reading banned books this year and this one jumped off the list for at least one of the members. I had heard of it, had meant to read it as research for the YA novel I am working on, but to tell you the truth, I had no idea what this book was like. I mean, given the title and the cover (of my copy, anyway), it seems to be a middle grades or even elementary school story with some goofy, playful plot. Like How to Eat Fried Worms or Frindle or something. Not so. It’s more on par with Stephen King’s “The Body” or The Goonies, but actually more ominous and tragic than both of those put together. Like Catcher in the Rye but a little younger. And, in my opinion, more entertaining by far.

“They murdered him” is the first line. I totally forgot about that. And I’m not going to tell you anything, really, but is it metaphorical or literal? Either way, I forgot it was there. But there was so much tension built into the book, that one need not remember it. You still get this mounting sense of dread, biting your nails and reading out of the corners of your eyes as you go. It was said at group that Chocolate War is more disturbing than Lord of the Flies because the characters are older and therefore more culpable. I have to admit that I have never read Flies—it was never assigned to me in school and I haven’t gotten around to it since—but I understand the thought here. I found that the real villain in this book is not one of The Vigils, it’s a teacher, because he is the adult. His role should have been much different and I certainly blame him with his (supposedly) fully-developed brain.

It is realistic. Painful. Tragic. Very contemplative of power, conformity, mob mentality, manipulation, and the male teen. Upsetting, but so well-written. It’s uncomfortable. Interesting. Horrific, Frustrating. Lawless, justice-less. It’s about power. The language and POV are interesting, solid. It kept my brain active. And somehow the reader experience is almost light, airy. I felt both joy and a sense of beauty while reading this—not just continual dread.

There is some jumping around in the narrative between perspectives (which can take a paragraph to orient), but the small scenes and small characters are very important to the story for some reasons. (It is also for sure confusing, trying to keep all the characters straight.) The small characters are used to ask questions and emphasize themes: Am I the bad guy (Goober)? Who are the real rebels (in a larger worldview, the Hippies)? If you say nothing are you complicit (the student who gets accused of cheating)? (I’m calling this shades of complicity, and it is a main theme in the book.) So many chilling and small moments (from different perspectives) grow to form a whole picture of what we’re dealing with. Also, they give us some breaks from the mounting tension. It’s a bleak painting of a parochial school, for sure. But you don’t have a sense that the whole world is like this. There are other people weaving in and out of the story in the background that make you aware that even if some of the characters are trapped, there is a reality where The Vigils are not in charge. Where people are unaware of the cruelty being done to others right under their noses. Where some people aren’t like The Vigils or Leon.

There were people in club who hated this book, didn’t like it, or were concerned about who might read it (even though the point is we don’t agree with banning books). I suppose that if a teen reads this alone, it could be disturbing and depressing without giving them an understanding within the context of real life. Would it be better if approached with the guidance of an adult (ironically)? Taught in the classroom? How to read this? What are we finding in its story? I think it’s worth the lesson, but I can see the point. The real reason it was banned repeatedly, let’s be honest, is not the violence (which serves a psychological purpose) or the tragedy, but the masturbation. It’s about teen boys and it gets really real about various aspects of their daily lives. Pre-internet, thankfully.

But I also just read along and admired the ride, literarily speaking. Could you read this book solely for entertainment? Can you read Animal Farm and Fahrenheit 451 and 1984 simply for entertainment? I suppose so. It’s just not how a lot of these books are read or treated.

I am not going to throw in all the opinions that I disagree with from club. I thought it was a tragedy about resistance and futility in the package of a well-put-together YA novel. I kept thinking forward to the future. Who were these kids in the adult world? Who do these kinds of people become? Can we think about gangs here instead of the mafia? I don’t really think so. I think there is already cruelty in schools and among teens, and even the pathological misbehavior of some adults (like Leon). We don’t have to go any further than that.

Robert Cormier (cor-meer) spent his life in one town in Massachusetts, where he went to parochial school, married a local and had three daughters and a son (to whom The Chocolate War is dedicated). He was a Catholic, newspaper reporter, and scriptwriter who was interested in the concepts of intimidation and manipulation, inspired in fiction by news stories. It was a little later in life that he got around to writing novels. He published something like 18 novels for youth, his two famous being The Chocolate War and I Am the Cheese. His website can be found HERE.

“You could take a kid’s lunch or even his lunch money and nothing usually happened because most kids wanted peace at any price” (p48).

“Janza flipped his cigarette against a tree and watched the butt ricochet into the gutter. He withdrew a package from his pocket, discovered it was empty and tossed it away, watching the breeze move it along on the sidewalk. Emile Janza didn’t care about keeping America beautiful” (p98).

“Funny, he knew Leon was in a precarious position and yet there was always the danger of underestimating him” (p157).

“The maligners, the malcontents—they always rally around the rebel” (p157).

“Why did the wise guys always accuse other people of being wise guys?” (p200).

“If you want to get under a guy’s skin, accuse him of being something he isn’t. Otherwise, you’re only telling him something he knows” (p211).

“They tell you to do your thing but they don’t mean it. They don’t want you to do your thing, not unless it happens to be their thing, too. It’s a laugh, Goober, a fake. Don’t disturb the universe, Goober, no matter what the posters say” (p248).

There’s a 1988 movie that has decent ratings. I am interested in watching it, but I think I’ll wait until my husband reads the book. The topics and style of the book are right up his alley, and he’s bound to like the movie, as well.