In The Disreputable History
of Frankie-Landau Banks, E. Lockhart brilliantly
explores power dynamics at an elite boarding school.
Sixteen-year-old Frankie, frustrated by the exclusion
from her school’s all-male secret society, infiltrates
the group, sending the unknowing boys on a spree of
ingenious pranks. The protagonist experiments with grammar
to hilarious effect, and serves as an inspiration to
teenage girls who aren’t content being relegated
to arm-candy status. Subversive and clever, this young
adult novel is a stunning story of gender, entitlement,
and the making of an anti-heroine.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
E. Lockhart is the author of
Dramarama, The Boyfriend List, Fly on the
Wall, and The Boy Book. She is also one
of the co-authors of How to be Bad, with Lauren
Myracle and Sarah Mlynowski. She has never been a member
of a secret society. Not that she'd tell you, anyway.
ABOUT THE BOOK(from
the publisher)
Frankie Landau-Banks at age
14:
Debate Club.
Her father's "Bunny Rabbit."
A mildly geeky girl attending a highly competitive boarding
school.
Frankie Landau-Banks at age
15:
A knockout figure.
A sharp tongue.
A chip on her shoulder.
And a gorgeous new senior boyfriend: the supremely goofy,
word-obsessed Matthew Livingston.
Frankie Laundau-Banks.
No longer the kind of girl to take "no" for
an answer.
Especially when "no" means she's excluded
from her boyfriend's all-male secret society.
Not when her ex boyfriend shows up in the strangest
of places.
Not when she knows she's smarter than any of them.
When she knows Matthew is lying to her.
And when there are so many, many pranks to be done.
Frankie Landau-Banks, at age
16:
Possibly a criminal mastermind.
To: Headmaster Richmond and
the Board of Directors,
Alabaster Preparatory Academy
I, Frankie Landau-Banks, hereby confess that I was the
sole mastermind behind the mal-doings of the Loyal Order
of the Basset Hounds. I take full responsibility for
the disruptions caused by the Order—including
the Library Lady, the Doggies in the Window, the Night
of a Thousand Dogs, the Canned Beet Rebellion, and the
abduction of the Guppy.
That is, I wrote the directives
telling everyone what
to do.
I, and I alone.
No matter what Porter Welsch
told you in his statement.
Of course, the dogs of the
Order are human beings with free will. They contributed
their labor under no explicit compunction. I did not
threaten them or coerce them in any way, and if they
chose to follow my instructions, it was not because
they feared retribution.
You have requested that I provide
you with their names. I respectfully decline to do so.
It’s not for me to pugn or impugn their characters.
I would like to point out that
many of the Order’s escapades were intended as
social criticism. And that many of the Order’s
members were probably diverted from more self-destructive
behaviors by the activities prescribed them by me. So
maybe my actions contributed to a larger good, despite
the inconveniences you, no doubt, suffered.
I do understand the administration’s
disgruntlement over the incidents. I see that my behavior
disrupted the smooth running of your patriarchal establishment.
And yet I would like to suggest that you view each of
the Loyal Order’s projects with the gruntlement
that should attend the creative civil disobedience of
students who are politically aware and artistically
expressive.
I am not asking that you indulge
my behavior; merely that you do not dulge it without
considering its context.
