Anyway, this has nothing to do with Conversion. Make me shut up.
Colleen Rowley is under a lot of stress. She's about to graduate from St. Joan's high school, and she's applying to several top-level universities, and she wants to be valedictorian--meaning she's in tenth-of-a-point competition with a classmate--and her amazing history teacher has the gall to get sick, leaving an objectionable sub to manage the class. On the day that Mr. Mitchell doesn't show up, some of the high schoolers start acting strange. Clara, the most popular and well-liked girl in the school, has what appears to be a seizure in the middle of class. Her two best friends shortly follow her to the hospital, exhibiting even stranger symptoms. As panic and rumors spread, more girls fall ill. Parents, students, the school, experts, and the health department all get involved in trying to uncover the cause of the Danvers Mystery Illness. Colleen, who's been reading The Crucible for her history sub, makes a discovery that none of the officials nor experts have come close to. Could there be supernatural elements to the sickness?
Meanwhile, in 1706, a young woman named Ann Putnam tells her local reverend a strange story--when she was a teenager, she and some of her friends started the Salem witch trials. And the girls were all lying.
The modern story progresses beautifully, too--Howe makes us believe or disbelieve just as the characters do. When a new idea has been introduced and accepted, you accept it without even noticing it at first. Often you don't know what to believe. In the beginning, reading the two stories alongside each other, I thought, "Yeah, it's a witch; there's got to be someone with magical powers who's making the girls sick!" But as I continued reading Ann's story, my prediction began slowly to change. I didn't know what to think, since I didn't believe in any of the proposed alternatives, either.
The two stories connect in the most amazing ways. Yes, they could be their own books, but they are even better together. The most subtle, ingenious way that Howe connected them was by using the same phrasing in one story and then in another, or having two different characters in the two different stories do the same thing. For example, in the modern story, there's a girl known as Other Jennifer, to differentiate her from Jennifer Crawford. In the historical narrative, there are two Elizabeths. Other Betty, Ann thinks of one of them once. The progression of events did not line up exactly, which made it more interesting. Otherwise it would've been like reading the same thing twice, just in a different time period and with different characters. What happens when a group of girls all fall mysteriously sick? People's reactions depend on their time, of course. An occurrence in one narrative would lead to understanding in the other. They guided each other along, dancing, exchanging, weaving, enriching each other.
Each story is also strong because of its subplots. In Ann's tale there is plenty of room for extras. Since it is mostly her telling the Reverend the truth of the witch crisis, any part not spent on that is used to give her depth. She's in love with the Reverend, who's married. We learn about what her life is like as an ex-accuser. Colleen's half also includes lots of subplots--romances of her and her friends, college applications, and the disappearance of Mr. Mitchell. Everything is a mystery in this book, not just the illness, and it's great that way.
One final word before I shut up about plot and move on--don't read the last few chapters before you get there. I'm serious; if you read ahead, it will take away the lovely shock and not leave you wondering. Yes, it's a twist. I'm not telling you any more.
Okay. Plot. You've just read a lot about it, now, haven't you? How about the characters?
Most of the characters in Ann's story are rather horrible, but that makes them interesting. Colleen's world-companions are much better people, and lots of them are lovely characters. Her friends are all different and fascinating, well-developed. Colleen has a great voice, especially when she vents her opinion to us readers about her friend Anjali's boyfriend: "Jason the yo-boy... Jason with the magic below-ass-hovering blue jeans." (p. 34). But Jason does have a fabulous friend named Spence.
I don't think that there was anything about Conversion that would give me cause to complain. If there was, I can't remember it. (See, like Colleen, I go to a private Catholic girls' school that is amazing but gives you lots of homework. At least we don't have mysterious disorders there.) A tad more setting description might have been nice at times, and I would also like the author to know that "entrails" should only be used when said viscera are no longer in their proper place of a living abdominal cavity. If your entrails are experiencing feeling, you've been reanimated, darling, and we should all be very worried. If you're living, let's try saying that your stomach is whatevering (I can't remember what the entrails were doing).
In short, I recommend Conversion to anyone who likes mysteries and historical fiction and illnesses. Before I read the book, I told my friend who wants to be an epidemiologist (but is so afraid of contagious diseases that she moves across the room if someone has a cold--maybe she wants people to not have to experience the horrors of contagion) to read it. She finished it before I even started. *Hangs head in shame.* But I do always have many a book to read, and I don't at all progress through them in order of acquisition. For instance, I got Shadowmarch by Tad Williams for Christmas. Still haven't read it. ("I'm saving it, ye see," says the randomly Scottish Fiona.) Although I think I will read it shortly, since my to-read stack is now almost as high as a shelf row. That would be nine books plus one that I'm currently reading (Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan; review coming someday, but not before a review of If You Could Be Mine by Sara Farizan, coming possibly tomorrow or next weekend or someday!).
Yeah! So! I shouldn't let myself write reviews at 8 p.m. on a Saturday, when I am busy crashing from my demanding week.
Read Conversion if you think it sounds good! Especially recommended for aspiring epidemiologists.