The last thing Elise wants is to start her senior year in a new town. But after her brother’s death in Afghanistan, she and her mother move from San Francisco to a sleepy coastal village.
When Elise meets Mati, they quickly discover how much they have in common. Mati is new to town too, visiting the U.S. with his family. Over the course of the summer, their relationship begins to blossom, and what starts out as a friendship becomes so much more.
But as Elise and Mati grow closer, her family becomes more and more uncomfortable with their relationship, and their concerns all center on one fact—Mati is Afghan.
Beautifully written, utterly compelling, and ultimately hopeful, THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF US asks—how brave can you be when your relationship is questioned by everyone you love?
I loved Katy Upperman’s debut, Kissing Max Holden. It had heart, conflict, and characters that grabbed my heart and yanked on its strings. I read it in almost one sitting. When I started The Impossibility of Us, I hoped that it wouldn’t suffer from second book syndrome.
Don’t expect the same story that you read in Kissing Max Holden. Sure, the characters faced impossible odds (hence the title) like in KMH, but Upperman explored different avenues of her writing. It was one of those books that you want to marinate in. I read it slowly, and I picked it up at random times, read huge chunks of it, and then came back to it.
I fell head-over-heels for the love interest, Mati. One of my favorite parts of the book was his voice. Instead of prose, he told his story through poetry. It was eloquent and beautiful, and it perfectly encapsulated Mati’s essence. Through less words, she told so much more.
Mati had a voice, but the book didn’t scream dual perspective. Instead, it was Elise’s story, and Mati complimented her, just like he did through her eyes. It was spectacular. She went through a lot after her brother’s death, and moving to a new place affected her even more – especially when her brother was in the military and Mati was Afghan. Upperman showed the ugly side of prejudice and bigotry. It broke my heart, and one of the saddest and thought-provoking parts of the novel: it wasn’t all resolved in the end. It was realistic.
Your heart will break reading this book, but it will also soar. You’ll question everything you’ve imagined about difficult relationships, look at your own self in a new light, but you’ll also fall in love. This book doesn’t come out until the summer, but it should be on the top of your TBR for July.