56 pages • 1 hour read
Wendy MassA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Character Analysis
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
The Breakfast Club is a now-iconic 1980s coming-of-age movie in which five high school students from different walks of life get to know each other and forge unexpected friendships during a long Saturday in school detention. In the movie, there is no primary character, and none of the characters acts alone. Rather, their cooperation compels the action of the movie. Like that movie, Every Soul a Star is an ensemble narrative—that is, no one narrative or one narrator can entirely to tell the story.
Each main character speaks in a distinctive and identifiable style: Bree’s narrative voice is full of adolescent slang; Ally’s narrative voice reflects her experience of homeschooling, with sophisticated sentences and diction that is beyond the normal middle-school range; and Jack’s narrative voice is often stumbling, full of gaps that reflects his awkwardness and lack of social graces.
The narrative is told in short chapters, each from the perspective of Ally, Bree, or Jack. The narrative is not continuous and linear. Rather, new chapters will move back a bit before the ending of the previous chapter, and, from an entirely different perspective, the action of that chapter will be clarified. For instance, Bree, just after arriving at the campsite, witnesses a young camper suddenly collapse, wheezing and choking, in the dining pavilion. Another camper, pudgy and awkward in his movements, charges in to save the boy. She has no idea what is going on or who the heroic boy is (she has yet to meet Jack). In the next chapter, Jack’s narrative goes back to the bus ride, where he admits his fascination with superheroes, meets young Pete, and finds out about the boy’s food allergies. Now the story is clear. The voices, working independently and without reference to others, fashion a clear story.
Thus, in a novel where each principal character must learn the value of teamwork, and a novel about stars and the constellations they make, the narrative itself is a collective expression—a sort of storytelling version of Team Exo in which the reader constellates the story from the individual chapters.
Before Jack goes to Moon Shadow, he believes he can fly. Flying is his secret power whenever he imagines himself as a superhero in one of his Game Boy scenarios. As he explains it, during his episodes of lucid dreaming, he wills himself to fly. For Jack, struggling to survive in a dysfunctional homelife and unable to adjust socially to school, flying becomes a powerful symbol of escape—the ability to soar above life’s obstacles and to cleanly break free of the complications and emotional stress of day-to-day living. Flying symbolizes childhood itself, when kids are protected from problems and often live in an insulated world where nothing bad can hurt them.
The experience at Moon Shadow, however, radically alters the novel’s use of flying as a symbol. The principal narrators struggle to adjust to their day-to-day lives by avoiding them. Both Ally and Bree are emotionally devastated by the prospects of their families’ approaching moves. Ally believes life in the city will make her efforts to find a comet impossible; Bree believes three years of living in the woods will make her dream of being a supermodel impossible. Neither handles their anxieties. They pout; they give their parents the silent treatment; they cry. Ally and Bree’s friendship begins with their misguided attempt to convince their parents of the move’s dire consequences. It is a hopelessly futile plan. The plan reflects their attempt to fly—to soar above their problems. Bree, reeling from the implications of her family’s move to the camp and certain that her life is over, actually approaches a reluctant Jack at one point and asks him to teach her to fly.
At the camp, however, each of them discovers their unexpected resilience and inner strength. They learn that they do not need to fear the real world and, more importantly, that they cannot escape such realities by pretending. Team Exo, which survives an entire night during a nasty storm to gather data and complete the experiment, teaches the three narrators the unsuspected reward of confronting problems rather than avoiding them. Pretend flying is for kids.
Although the novel draws on a variety of astral phenomena for symbolic value—including constellations, dark matter, and comets—the event of a total solar eclipse centers both the narrative and the kids’ experience at Moon Shadow. At its most basic level, the eclipse is evidence of the wonder and majesty of the real world, a world that is often terrifying and intimidating or, even worse, boring to kids as they move into adulthood. Each of the three characters has difficulty in finding the thrill of the real world; the eclipse shows them in single powerful event how stunning that real world can be.
Because Ally, and then Bree and Jack, come under the spell of science, the eclipse registers not as some mystical event in the sky but rather as a demonstration of the power and relevance of science. Despite advances in the sciences in the 20th century and the emergence of STEM curriculum in schools, scientists (and those who find science fascinating) are still caricatured as nerdy. Mass provides pages of thoroughly researched astronomical data. The story of the exoplanet project and the mechanics of a total eclipse are presented with careful attention to scientific fact. In that way, the solar eclipse becomes a kind of massive lab demonstration. The exoplanet project introduces the kids to the sophisticated work of scientific investigation. The members of Team Exo execute a critical experiment, carefully gather data, and experience the complex thrill of interacting with the cosmos as they help discover a planet.
The event of the solar eclipse symbolizes the movement into adulthood and the process of coming of age. Transition can be scary. As the sun moves through the eclipse, the earth moves from reassuring light to a momentary period of terrifying dark before a full return to glorious light. After the eclipse, the Earth is at once exactly the same and totally different. Similarly, each narrator begins the story in apparent stable and happy reality. For different reasons, they each undergo a significant and scary period of darkness. At the close of the narrative, these characters each experience a new kind of illumination about themselves, their families, and their identities. Like the earth after an eclipse, the kids appear to be the same as they were at the start of their summer, but they see differently. They are at once both exactly the same and totally different.
Each of the three narrators is or is approaching age 13, and each is preparing for the transition from an elementary school environment to middle school. Barely teens, these narrators evidence an adult-level sensitivity to their appearance and, in turn, the relationship between their appearance and their social interactions. They each struggle to define friendship and to factor into friendship the stirrings of sexual attraction and the meaning of that kind of relationship. They each are beginning to set priorities and to separate things they want to do from the things they have to do. They understand the short and long-term rewards of education. They weigh the implications of their family, their perceptions of their parents, and their perceptions of their responsibilities for and their appreciation of siblings.
At the beginning of the novel, each character is reluctant to leave behind their childhood. By the end, however, they each begin to realize that they are not at the end of childhood but rather at the beginnings of adulthood. Mass presents the transition to middle school and the critical age of 13 as at once terrifying and exhilarating.
When Ally’s parents first open Moon Shadow, they understand that for the campsite to succeed they have to entertain guests with more than the usual activities: “After all, there’s only so much swimming in the lake, fishing, hiking, playing on the playground, and roasting hot dogs and s’mores one can stand” (11). To that end, the parents design and build an elaborate labyrinth consisting of a massive series of circles created by large stones spiraling to a center, a project that takes more than a year). Unlike typical mazes in which people would be expected to wander through trying to find a way out, the Labyrinth is intended to give people a chance to think and to ask big and difficult questions about their life and place in the cosmos. In the Labyrinth, Ally explains, by the time people arrive at the center, the universe gives them an answer to these questions.
As a coming-of-age narrative, Every Soul a Star challenges its three principal characters to do just that: to ask big questions about themselves as a way to embark on adulthood ready for the adventure. Bree long delays venturing into the Labyrinth, fearing the answer the universe might give about a life she increasingly sees as superficial. Jack also prefers retreat. He long delays looking honestly at the emotional chaos of his life, fearing that any honest evaluation would reveal its confusion and his immaturity. Ally, for all her confidence and maturity, understands when her parents tell her they are moving that she knows little about herself or the world.
Each primary character then steps into a symbolic Labyrinth of their own and asks the big question. The journey into the Labyrinth makes each a better, stronger individual. When Stella, the veteran eclipse chaser, a feisty grandmother who becomes a spiritual mentor for Jack (her name translates as “starlight”), meets Bree at the Labyrinth, she senses Bree’s hesitation. She offers her the advice Mass gives to her young readers: “Life is short, but it is wide” (185).
By Wendy Mass