Review: THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING by Kari Luna
Sometimes you read a book and the whole time you’re reading that book you feel like you’re locking elbows with the main character and skipping around the neighborhood with them. No? That’s just me? That’s okay. I’m a little different. And so is Sophie Sofia, the main character in Kari Luna‘s spectacular debut novel, THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING.

Philomel, July 2013.
Sophie Sofia is the daughter of a brilliant physicist who has disappeared so often that when it becomes a sort of forever thing — as in Sophie’s mom has moved them first to San Francisco and now to suburban Illinois — Sophie has to accept that maybe her dad might not be the good guy she always thought he was. She remembers amazing times with him. Building things. Going to the zoo instead of school. Playing games. But what kind of a dad would abandon his family?
Here’s the other thing about Sophie’s dad: he sees things. Has episodes. And when he disappears, he’s not participating in the reality that everyone else is. Now Sophie is starting to experience this, too, which has lead her and her mother to this new town which isn’t even close to Chicago (a real city!) and which still isn’t Brooklyn (home). The good news is, despite stage diving into the popular girls’ lunch table during a very Ramones episode, Sophie is making friends. And a guy might even like her. The bad news is, she’s starting to have recurring episodes. As in, a shaman Panda named Walt that only she can see. And Walt seems to think he can guide her down a path that will solve everything, with a little help from string theory and a lot of help from her new BFF Finny.
THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING is beautiful and exciting and hilarious. And it’s also sad. Like, have-some-tissues-ready sad. The heartbreaking beauty of Sophie’s story is profound and thrilling, and something that I think readers of Meg Rosoff and John Green will enjoy. Besides, who doesn’t want to read a story about a girl with a shaman panda? I can’t wait to read Kari Luna‘s next novel.




