Night Flying

Rita Murphy

Night Flying is one of those young adult books I happened to pick up by accident because it was in the wrong section at the Case book sale. Glad I did, because this is a fun little book. Murphy never talks down to her audience, refreshing in a YA novel, and better yet, adult readers won't gag on the sentiment. Murphy has a message, but she is as good as any novelist writing for adults (and better than most) at making it palatable.

Georgia Hansen is on the eve of her sixteenth birthday. To say her life has been something less than conventional would be an understatement. She lives in a house with only women, none of whom work (all are living off the inheritance of her great-grandfather, an inventor who died with enough to ensure that Georgia's granddaughters will never have to work, either) and all of whom can fly. They do so only under the auspices of very strict rules; each female member of the family adds a rule as time goes on. You can imagine what it's like after a few generations. All, with the exception of wayward Aunt Carmen (who lives across the country), are under the thumb of Georgia's grandmother, a stern and humorless individual whose main goal seems to be making life miserable for her offspring and their offspring.

Things start to get messy when Carmen comes back for Georgia's birthday celebration. Georgia immediately forms a love/hate relationship with her, yearning after Carmen's freedom while wondering how someone could so easily slip the bonds of family obligation. (It's not so simple as all that, of course, which Georgia finds out eventually, but so the relationship begins).

At its core, this is a pretty simple coming-of-age tale, albeit with magical-realistic elements. Murphy, as with the best of the magical realist authors, never allows the trappings to get in the way of her story, especially her character development. Everyone, major characters and minor, is well developed and has a place in the little sonata that is this novel; not a note falls out of place. The allegory is somewhat obvious (the ability to fly is gained, but suppressed until the sixteenth birthday), and the action in the climax somewhat predictable, but Murphy addresses the subject form a perspective that is not often seen; she's a young adults' author writing from the perspective of a young adult who has a brain of her own, rather than showing a young adult whose beliefs and opinions are just those of a “more mature” (read: adult) mindset. This, more than anything, lends the book its magical realism; the idea that sometimes the kids really are correct.

A fine read.