This kind of nonfiction relies on earning the privilege of entry into people’s lives and observing them closely and deeply; Hobbs excels at both. Describing environments and scenes, he is fluent and precise, with an eye for rich detail. Even better is his portrayal of the internal experiences of his subjects, showing the reader their coping mechanisms, loneliness and depression. Hobbs’s prepandemic access is formidable, as is his ability to reconstruct those scenes that occurred after in-person reporting became impossible ... Children of the State is organized into three separate “books” rather than woven together into a single narrative that might have benefited from the resulting collisions and comparisons ... He tells us a lot about an important subject...but he ends up making little of what he’s found ... In the weeks since I first read Children of the State, I have found myself considering the purpose of this kind of immersion reporting we both do, this particular genre of narrative nonfiction. I am reminded that feelings and experiences do not themselves make a book unless an author has a clear perspective on what those feelings and experiences mean, why it’s important to the reader — and what an author has learned.
Provides background on the evolution of America's juvenile justice system — but it is primarily about people, not statistics. Many of the statistics are grim and the outcomes depressing ... Throughout, Hobbs lets his characters describe the broken system, rather than writing as an advocate. With admirable research, he does a wonderful job bringing out his subjects' humanity. The reader cares about these people — adults and young people alike — and wants them to succeed. Sadly, this is rarely the case.
Hobbs spends a bit of time on the history of juvenile justice to provide a context, while the heart of the book is the stories of the individuals most impacted by the system. He focuses most compellingly on two young men...and two educators in California ... He gives each of the four individuals a voice within a realistic but empathetic narrative, one that is hopeful, but not naive. The prize-winning Hobbs honors the complexity of each person’s life and experiences and shows the impact on youth of social pressure and frustration and such outside forces as court dates and COVID-19. The result is an eye-opening, fully humanizing, deeply affecting look at the often-misunderstood juvenile justice system and its inhabitants—young people of earnestness, disappointment, hope, and resilience.
