Second person narratives are experiencing a renaissance. Everywhere I turn it seems someone new is attempting to craft a story utilizing this previously rare method of story telling. In inexperienced hands it is a disaster. Bumbling novices try to impress readers and appear “literary” by using a technique they think is sophisticated but in actuality leaves their writing pretentious, stilted and difficult to parse. Lucky for us, Veera Hiranandani is no novice. In her latest middle grade historical fiction novel, How to Find What You’re Not Looking For, she uses the second person to literally push the thoughts and emotions of her main character into the readers consciousness. There is no separation between us and the text. We are the main character and we feel her struggle as a visceral sucker punch because of it. 

The story follows Jewish twelve-year-old Ariel as her life is turned upside down in the summer following the Loving vs. Virginia ruling that declared the banning of interracial marriage was unconstitutional. Ariel has never given much thought to issues of the wider world but when her universe is turned upside down by her sister eloping with a Hindu Indian man that their parents do not approve of, she is forced to do so. We, in turn, are forced to confront these issues as well. To further complicate matters, Ariel is struggling in school due to what we as the reader can easily identify as an undiagnosed learning disability, being bullied by an anti Semitic classmate and her parents contemplating selling the family bakery due to financial difficulty. 

I’ve read and enjoyed Hiranandani’s work before and it is safe to say she does not shy away from tackling difficult issues like race, antisemitism, financial struggles and the internal prejudices that Jewish people have towards the wider world. She has proven she can tell a good story and make us think all at the same time. Yet what made this particular book a stand out for me was in fact the side characters. From the school bully Chris to Ariel’s best friend Jane and back to her babysitter Gabby, they were each so lovingly developed I felt they could carry their own narratives. They breathed life into the world. Made it full and rounded. Even the depictions of Ariel’s parents, who make decisions that Ariel, and by proxy we the readers, disapprove of, are drawn with suck a skillful hand that we never hate them. We simply wish they knew better. 

It would be lovely if I could say I identified with this book because I had a teacher as wonderful as Ariel’s or a friend as determined as Jane. But let’s be real. What I most identified with was seeing the prejudices in those around me and wishing I could change them. As Ariel learns, Holocaust trauma has led to a deeply rooted isolationism in many Jewish communities. We fear that which we view as “other” and the onus of continuing the Jewish people, of making up for all the lives that were lost, presses in on us like the walls of an ever shrinking room and stifles change. This may not be everyone’s experience, Judaism contains multitudes after all, but it really hit home for me. 

I also identified with the family’s Rabbi, whom we never meet, when his advice is relayed through Ariel’s father. In a twist I was not expecting, but that left me pleasantly surprised, he tells Ariel’s parents to do what is in their hearts. This, to me, has always been the definition of Judaism.

As the reader is forced into Ariel’s head, to literally become her by reading this second person story as well as the heart-aching poetry within it, we experience a similar phenomenon. Ariel must look into her own heart and find a way forward for her family. I invite you, the reader, to cast aside your preconceived notions, pick up this book, and do the same. 

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E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U. S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.