Bud Smith's "Teenager"
by Blake Levario
Kody Rawlee Green and Tella “Teal Cartwheels” Cartacelli are our violent and innocent-adjacent guides through Bud Smith’s American landscape. After Kody escapes juvie and murders Tella’s abusive father (and mother), they take off and hit the road—with Tella’s brother Neil in pursuit. What they seem to find along the way is more of themselves: a reckoning with their dreams and where reality falls short, a rotating cast of odd and sometimes dangerous characters, and love and how far it can stretch.
Smith’s prose is exceptional in the way it’s able to seamlessly blend a conversational tone while still maintaining a sense of control over narrative. The narration is chipper and youthful and you’re able to follow along like one of your best friends is telling you a story. Take this excerpt from one of the beginning chapters for example: A poster for West Side Story was on Neil’s wall. Kody didn’t like anything about that West Side Story. Just let the couple have their happiness, okay. Shakespeare had it wrong. So did all the copycats. Everything didn’t have to end so viciously.
While there is no short supply of vicious endings in the book, at the heart of this story is the love that Kody and Tella have for one another and how that bond drives them to create new beginnings. The juxtaposition between violence and tenderness in the book is stunning. Are they reckless? Yeah. Do they take things too far? Yeah. But I can’t look back on my own adolescent years without thinking about all of the crazy impulses I had. Of course I’d want to hit the road with the person I love, saying screw everyone else, we can have everything we want.
Another thing that enhances the experience of reading Teenager are the incredible illustrations by Rae Buleri in almost every chapter. Images of record players, animatronic horses, flowers, and more pepper the narrative and give us an expansive look into the world of Smith's characters.
Teenager took me for a ride—through the East Coast, to Montana, to California, all the way into my feelings. This book is full of wonder, awe, MREs, Elvis songs, wild stallions, and getaways. By the end of it, I felt like I had witnessed the rebirth of something—some spirit of Americana that’s been missing, or maybe was always there but is now out in the open, rejuvenated and bright. Whatever it is, Bud Smith’s prose made the world around me feel ethereal for a brief moment in time.
What else is there to say—this book is just a killer read.
Blake Levario writes poems and exists. Follow him on Twitter @based_sicilian