I came for the title and stayed for the story. WE ALL LOVE THE BEAUTIFUL GIRLS is Joanne Proulx’s sophomore novel (following the critically acclaimed ANTHEM OF A RELUCTANT PROPHET). While Proulx writes neither quickly nor frequently, the quality of her work makes her efforts more than worth waiting for. Her latest is a skillfully told tale of cringe-inducing occurrences brought on by impulsive actions and recurring inactions.

WE ALL LOVE THE BEAUTIFUL GIRLS chronicles a very difficult year in the lives of the Slate family. Seventeen-year-old Finn is awash in adolescent hormones mixed in a stew of love and lust for Jess, his older next-door neighbor who used to babysit him. His father, Michael, is a somewhat unequal partner in a real estate development company that he started years before the story begins with Peter Conrad, his best friend going back to childhood. Peter and his wife, Helen, are socially attached at the hip with Michael and his wife, Mia, while Peter and Helen’s daughter, Frankie, nurses an unrequited love for Finn.

"WE ALL LOVE THE BEAUTIFUL GIRLS is one of those books that haunts the mind long after the last sentence is read.... Neither the story nor its author flinches. You might."

This somewhat heartwarming tableau gets knocked sideways on a fateful and freezing Canadian evening in late February. Michael learns that Peter has been embezzling from him for years and has even closed him out of the business ownership entirely. Meanwhile, Finn is at a party where Jess, Frankie and a bunch of other players are. Things happen, and in a drunken misery, Finn passes out in the snow. There are missed opportunities galore here, resulting in a tragedy that resonates throughout the book and even beyond it.

The story switches from a third person past tense viewpoint to Finn’s occasional first person present narrative, which is shot through with painful adolescent angst. This is fitting, given that it is upon Finn that a primary disaster and a secondary heartbreak land, both of which are permanent in very different ways. However, the novel doesn’t necessarily revolve around Finn, and no character is left unaffected in some way by tale’s end. Proulx doesn’t take any prisoners in what is a scathing look at how fragile yet how strong friendships can be, even when torn asunder.

WE ALL LOVE THE BEAUTIFUL GIRLS is one of those books that haunts the mind long after the last sentence is read. I was reminded topically, though not stylistically, of Evan Hunter’s classic LAST SUMMER, at least with respect to the manner in which the casual cruelty of teenagers (and adults as well) can so unexpectedly rise to the forefront. It can be forgiven that the novel somewhat loses its way at the end as it flirts with the outer edges of diatribe. While irritating, it does not change the power of what has gone before. The book does not end tidily or well for everyone (maybe not for anyone), but very few things do in the real world. Neither the story nor its author flinches. You might.