Anais Hendricks, 15, is in the back of a police car, headed for the
Panopticon, a home for chronic young offenders. She can't remember the
events that led her here, but across town a policewoman lies in a coma
and there is blood on Anais' school uniform. Smart, funny, and fierce,
Anais is a counter-culture outlaw, a bohemian philosopher in sailor
shorts and a pillbox hat. She is also a child, who has been let down, or
worse, by just about every adult she has ever met.
The residents of the Panopticon form intense bonds, heightened by their
place on the periphery, and Anais finds herself part of an ad hoc family
there. Much more suspicious are the social workers, especially Helen,
who is about to leave her job for an elephant sanctuary in India but is
determined to force Anais to confront the circumstances of her birth
before she goes. Looking up at the watchtower that looms over the
residents, Anais knows her fate: She is part of an experiment, she
always was, it's a given, a liberty--a fact. And the experiment is
closing in.
In language dazzling, energetic, and pure, The Panopticon introduces
us to a heart-breaking young heroine and an incredibly assured and
outstanding new voice in fiction.