Book Review: Half Life by Ryan Lee
When I first stumbled upon Half Life by Ryan Lee, the concept of a doppelganger intrigued me immediately. Who wouldn’t want a clone to share the burdens of teenage life? So when I secured an ARC from NetGalley, I felt a flutter of excitement—the kind I hadn’t felt about a YA novel in ages. After years of drifting away from young adult literature, I hoped this story would reignite that spark.
At its core, Half Life follows Lucille Harper, a perfectionist grappling with her parents’ divorce and the loss of her best friend to romance. With a palpable yearning for acceptance and validation, she makes the bold choice to undergo cloning—enter Lucy, her empathetic, spirited doppelganger. This element of the plot is as compelling as it is thought-provoking. The exploration of identity and the notion of what makes us “us” were themes I found myself pondering long after I turned the last page.
Initially, I struggled to connect with Lucille. Her bratty demeanor and incessant monologues about her perfect life felt heavy-handed and, at times, juvenile. She was navigating the stormy waters of adolescence, yet her constant quest for external validation through crushes—particularly the artsy Bode—was frustrating. Why must her self-worth hinge on someone else’s affection? It’s a narrative that many young women can, unfortunately, relate to, but it felt a bit cliché here.
Lucy, on the other hand, quickly blossomed into a character of depth and promise. As her identity evolved, I found myself rooting for her—and, in many ways, hoping Lucille would step up to the plate alongside her. The relationship between the two girls blossomed into a dynamic partnership as they worked to protect one another from the sinister motives of their creators. However, the often one-dimensional portrayal of the scientists deterred from the depth I’d hoped for. Their thirst for groundbreaking discoveries left them devoid of the complexity that could elevate the novel.
The pacing had its ups and downs, with some moments dragging due to typical YA tropes—think falling apart friendships, crush angst, and exaggerated teenage drama. Meanwhile, other scenes sped through pivotal points that deserved more attention, such as the implications of cloning and what it means for self-awareness. The scientific underpinnings felt rushed, and I yearned for deeper engagement with philosophical questions surrounding identity and the soul.
Notably, the book introduced terms like "allo," which I had never encountered before. While I appreciated the attempt at inclusivity, it felt shoehorned into the narrative, as if it was included to tick a box rather than to add genuine depth.
In the end, Half Life is a novel with a captivating premise but limited follow-through. It appeals to readers who enjoy classic YA drama, albeit with a sci-fi twist. While it didn’t fully resonate with me, I can see younger readers finding both familiarity and excitement in its exploration of adolescence, identity, and the quest for acceptance.
For me, the longing to truly enjoy the story overshadowed the experience. Yet, I remain hopeful that Ryan Lee’s future works will delve more deeply into the fascinating themes presented here. If you’re in the mood for a light read that combines adventure with the typical woes of teen life, this might just be the book for you. Happy reading!
Discover more about Half Life on GoodReads >>
