The Names They Gave Us by Emery Lord

I have already read and loved Emery Lord's other books and The Names They Gave Us was no different. It delicately balanced the lighthearted moments of a summer camp book with gut-punching, emotional moments. All of the characters had deep and carefully created backstories, inner lives, and motivations. That can be very difficult to balance when dealing with an ensemble novel like this one, but Lord handles it masterfully. When you have a larger number of characters, it can get to a point where the characters don't feel as fully fleshed out and are more like decorative pieces, but this is not the case in Names. 

Some of my favorite parts of the story were the times when our main group of counselors would spend their evenings off and build a campfire. This was their time to unwind and vent about their days. I really enjoyed these parts because they served as wonderful and natural spaces for character development. They were also some of the funniest and most heartwarming scenes in the book, although these things were spread throughout the book. 

Another thing that you would except to come along with an ensemble cast is to have a diverse cast. And fortunately, this is the case. Throughout the book there were characters of different racial backgrounds, sexualities, and gender identities, both among the core group of counselors, as well as among the campers and other characters. Like any realistic world, there were times when marginalized characters experienced microaggressions, but these were tackled within the text and explicitly called out as being discriminatory and harmful, rather than Lord leaving it to the reader to just know the characters are good people who wouldn't say that. She also included moments where the white, Christian, and straight narrator made mistakes and said things that were hurtful to her friends. These moments were also called out by her friends for what they were and Lucy was forced to reckon with her own biases and learn from her mistakes. I also think that having a well-meaning but very privileged main character could be a way for readers who share her privileges to realize the ways in which they make these same mistakes or see people like the other characters as people. While I wish we didn't have to use characters like her to make marginalized people palatable to some readers, it can be worth it for the lessons it could potentially teach people.