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Wednesday’s Whatever: Pro-Choice, Pro-Monogamy

Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool,
Loving both of you is breaking all the rules.
Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool,
Loving you both is breaking all the rules.

Oh, I remember 1977 and this hit song, written by Peter Yarrow (of the folk music trio Peter, Paul & Mary) and Phillip Jarrell, and recorded by Mary MacGregor. The song was Ms. MacGregor’s only hit, and if you listen you’ll know that that’s a shame because she has a lovely voice.

I hated that song. I used to talk to the radio and say, “Yes, you feel like a fool! You are are a fool! Make a choice!” Then I’d switch to another radio station. I really hated that song.

So, now I’m caught in a quandary because I just read two YA books that I didn’t hate, but both of them have that same plot line: torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool. Is this fantasy of two wonderful guys both madly in love with one girl something I missed out on? I would have settled for one, as a teen. I don’t remember ever thinking about how exciting it would be to have two guys on a string or how difficult, and flattering, it would be to have them fighting over me, to have to choose between them. Why is this conflict popping up all over in the books I’m reading and the TV I’m watching?

Examples:
The first book I read last week was The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan. If I had known it was a zombie book (the zombies are called The Unconsecrated, but they’re zombies), I probably wouldn’t have picked it up. However, for a zombie book it was O.K.—except that the female protagonist, Mary, can’t decide whether she loves Travis or Harry, who happen to be brothers and about the only available guys around. If you’ve read this far, you’re not worried about spoilers, so I’ll give you a heads up: she never does really make up her mind.

Then, I read Catching Fire by Suzanne Colllins, the sequel to last year’s hit, The Hunger Games. I loved it, and I’m looking forward to the third and final installment in the trilogy. However, Katniss in this novel is again “torn between two lovers,” Peeta and Gale. All sorts of developments make this choice a difficult one for Miss Katniss, but heckfire, why can’t she just fish or cut bait, at least in her own mind? No, she loves Gale, but she has some kind of feeling for Peeta, too; she’s just not sure what that feeling is. I hope in the third book she grows up and makes a choice, and the author doesn’t feel the need to kill one of the male leads to resolve the dilemma.

I started thinking about how many popular books and TV shows have this premise: in the Twilight series, Bella is torn between Jacob and Edward. She really knows which one she wants to spend her life with, but she strings the other guy along for two books, just in case. Cut him loose, for Pete’s sake!

On LOST (you knew I’d bring LOST into this rant somehow, didn’t you?), Kate’s been torn between Jack and Sawyer for five seasons. I’m sure there’s are bets being placed somewhere on which guy she’ll end up with.

I’m sure these are only the tip of the iceberg. Can you think of any other books movies, or TV show with the girl torn-between-two-lovers device? I do think it’s a device to create and maintain romantic/dramatic tension. After all, what did the character Jacob really add to Twilight, other than another pretty face?

And did Jane Austen’s heroines have this issue?

BBAW: Best YA Blog

Voting is now open at the Book Blogger Appreciation Week Awards.

I read Young Adult fiction. I like Young Adult fiction. An yet, I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never visited any of the blogs on this list. Time to remedy that little shortcoming.

Green Bean Teen Queen is a teen/tween librarian. She likes Emma-Jean Lazarus! (I just finished Emma Jean Lazarus Falls in Love, and it was just as good as the first Emma Jean book.) She’s in library school, and she’s reading all the latest YA stuff plus the classics for her classes. Lots of crazy reading!

Mrs. Magoo Reads Mrs. Magoo runs a first line contest each month featuring the first lines of all the books she’s read that month. I like that idea. Saturday’s Scribe is Mrs. Magoo’s feature for author interviews; she’s interviewed some great YA authors such as Mary E. Pearson, Lisa Graff, and Sarah Beth Durst.

My Favorite Author is a YA blog for adults, written by three co-bloggers whose nicknames are Speed Reader, Page Turner, and Aubrey. These three between them read A LOT of books, and they review them all for the benefit of those adults who enjoy young adult themes and characters and for the teens who drop in, too. The blog is on hiatus while Speed Reader deals with some health issues, but there are enough back reviews to keep anyone reading for a long while.

Pop Culture Junkie Alea has already read and reviewed 103 books this year, so if she spends time on other forms of “pop culture” I don’t know when she sleeps. I’m sure I could find several books in there to add to my TBR list, but I’m resisting temptation.

The Story Siren (also nominated for Best Design and Most Extravagant Giveaways) is the blogging home of Kristi who hosts In My Mailbox, where she posts about the books she’s acquired that week, and other bloggers can also link to “posts about what books we have received that week (via your mailbox/library/store bought)!” And she has a page that lists forthcoming YA and adult titles. That’s information that I’m always interested in knowing.

So I’m torn between two blogs for my vote in this category, but I choose . . . Green Bean Teen Queen. Because she shares my Emma Jean love. And because library school students are special; I know because I wuz one once upon a time.

Reality Check by Peter Abrahams

So the author blurb tells me that Mr. Abrahams is an experienced author with several YA and adult titles under his belt, including two which received Edgar Award nominations. The writing in this new book, Reality Check, is decent and readable, but there’s something about it, something about the point of view, that is disconcerting, not quite believable, maybe, or just not quite right for me.

I’m wondering if all of Mr. Abrahams’ books are like this one, If so, he could be a big hit with guys, especially. Make no mistake, this book is written for, to, and about guys. The main character is a guy, sixteen year old Clay Laredo, a football player, a bright kid with bad grades, and boyfriend of Clea Weston, one of the smartest and richest girls in school. Cody spends the book scrapping, investigating, working hard, being tough. Clea, on the other hand, spends most of the book waiting to be rescued, and although we’re told repeatedly that she’s tough and “good at everything”, she only does something active once towards the end of the book. I don’t have any gripes about that characterization, but it does make the book very guy-oriented. We’re also told several times that Cody is “a bright kid”, but he comes across sort of slow and dimwitted, but well-meaning.

Other guy stuff in the book: some detailed football, some knock-down, drag-out fighting, a sprinkling of crude language (not much, but more than I want to read), an abbreviated car chase. One minor character is gay; he gets beat up. Actually to be fair, several people get beat up, including Cody. It’s a book probably best suited to the kind of guys who will grow up to read the kind of books my own dad read: John MacDonald, Robert B. Parker, Lawrence Block. Not my cup of tea, but some people prefer a cold beer.

Dystopian Reading

How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff.

The Roar by Emma Clayton.

These two books actually have quite a bit in common, although the tone in each is quite different from the other. Both books are set in a future dystopian England, war-ravaged and poverty-stricken. Both books emphasize the meaninglessness of war, with quite strong anti-war messages. And both books are about teens empowered to live their lives as they see fit, and to even change the world for the better, despite the idiocies and pure evil perpetrated by their elders.

How I Live Now was published back in 2004, and quite a few bloggers and others have reviewed it. It’s the story of an American girl who goes to England to visit her cousins and is trapped there by the outbreak of war. The narrator, Daisy, is annoying at first. She speaks, thinks, and writes in interminable, run-on sentences, and she’s obnoxious, sarcastic, and self-centered. However, her experiences in war time take care of her attitude, not to mention her borderline anorexia. (Daisy says toward the end of the book, “The idea of wanting to be thin in a world full of people dying from lack of food struck even me as stupid.”) Because I didn’t like Daisy and her paragraph-long sentences very much at the beginning of the book, I didn’t know if I’d like the book very much either, but I did. It ends in a satisfying, but solidly realistic, scene of True Love rewarded, and Daisy, surprisingly, has become an adult with the ability to give love by the time that final scene rolls around.

The ending to The Roar, I must warn readers, is not so satisfying. I’m wondering if we should stage a rebellion and tell the publishers that books that feature an obvious set-up for a sequel as pseudo-ending should also feature at the very least a warning label: “YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH THIS STORY FOR AT LEAST TWO YEARS. READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.” THe Roar is a very good story but it doesn’t end so much as it stops, in mid-story.

The Roar is reminiscent of both Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card and of Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games. Mika and his twin sister Ellie are children with special abilities who are being trained by a malevolent government official for some sort of mission, but Ellie has been kidnapped and is assumed dead. And Mika is involved in a virtual game/competition called Pod Fighters that becomes more and more dangerous as he wins out over other competitors to go to the final round of the game, a game that may reunite him with his beloved sister or may end in death for both of them. I’d recommend this one to Hunger Games readers who are looking for another read and to video game afficionados who want a story with games and lots of action. Just remember that it doesn’t end . . .

Book trailer for The Roar:

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

I don’t need to do a regular review of this YA fantasy title; everyone and his dog have been there before me, and I agree: it’s a great debut novel, good story, intriguing characters, and themes that provoke both thought and emotion. Here are some reviews for those of you who haven’t read the book yet:

Carrie K: “In her debut novel, Ms. Cashore has created a fully formed world with authentic characters that breathe on the page. I loved Katsa, Po, Raffin, Helda, Bitterblue – these characters became real to me as I read, and I cared deeply about what happened to them.”

The Reading Zone: “This is a gorgeous romance set amid a fantastic fantasy. Cashore has given birth to a new world within these seven kingdoms, and the romance between Po and Katsa will leave your heart racing.”

Librarian Amy: “Katsa is an orphaned young woman, the niece of the king, who is graced with the ability to kill. As she matures, she becomes less comfortable with being the king’s bully and muscle, and part of the story is her quest to know herself, her grace, and her place in the world.”


So, relieved of the need to do a full court press review (whatever that is), I thought I’d write a little mini-essay about something I noticed while reading the book, even though it’s not the main point of the novel. The main point of the novel is that relationships are complicated, and that giftedness in whatever area can be both a liability and a “grace.” The remainder of this post assumes that you’ve already read Graceling.

Transition. (I can’t think of one.) Back in the seventies when I was a kid of a girl, I read a series of fantasy novels that became classics: the Dragonriders of Pern series by Anne McCaffrey. Since I was a teenager and more easily shocked back then, I was somewhat taken aback by the attitude of the Weyr-folk of Pern in regard to sex. Basically, without going into detail, they’re rather promiscuous. Their excuse is that the dragons make them do it. I won’t debate the morality or sustainability of such a society, but I did notice that the Dragonriders of Pern with their casual attitudes toward sexual liaisons appeared in literature at about the time that our society was tending toward casual sexual pairings and serial monogamy (and acceptance of homosexuality which is accepted and practiced on Pern). I don’t suppose it’s any great new insight, but McCaffery’s fantasy/sci-fi seemed to be trying out the same morality (or lack thereof) that the American society was trying out in the 1970’s. It works better in the books than in real life.

So what do all these dragon-riding ethical systems have to do with Kristin Cashore’s Graceling? I believe I see the same sort of playing out of the possibilities of a sexual ethic in Graceling. This time rather than promiscuity with excellent reasons, it’s the current rampant marriage-phobia that is being explored. Katsa and Po, the two main characters in Graceling, are in love, but for reasons that are unclear to me, something to do with fear of being controlled or of losing control, the two decide not to marry but to be lovers. How very twenty-first century!

I noticed this same fear of marriage (fear of commitment?) played out in the ever-so-popular Twilight series: Bella is willing and ready to go to bed with her vampire boyfriend, Edward, but she fears and resists the idea of marriage. Both Bella and Katsa are afraid that marriage will spoil the love relationship they have with their respective paramours; somehow marriage, instead of strengthening a relationship, is seen as a spoiler, a denier of freedom, and a trap. Perhaps some of this resistance to marriage is a way for the author to maintain the dramatic and sexual tension between her characters. After all, if your romantic leads get married on page 100, what kind of tension remains to be explored in the remaining 200 pages, not to mention sequels? And even if there is relationship-building and even sex after marriage, is it the kind of thing that Graceling’s and Twilight’s teen audiences want to read about?

However, this view of marriage as the problem rather than the solution, is also a popular one in our culture these days. Bella and Edward make their way to the altar over the course of the four books in the series; perhaps Katsa and Po will also come to understand the possibility for some kind of committed relationship that gives freedom because of its boundaries instead of living in fear of their own desires to belong to one another wholly in a physical and emotional and even spiritual sense. Old-fashioned twentieth century reader that I am, I call that relationship “marriage”, but if author Cashore and her characters want to call it “the grace of committed love,” I won’t complain about the nomenclature.

Noel DeVries says kinda sorta what I’m saying here. Only she’s much more straightforward and comprehensible.

Alligator Bayou by Donna Jo Napoli

Sicilians in Louisiana? I knew about Cajuns, from Arcadia, Evangeline and all that jazz, French Creoles, and the French influence in New Orleans, even some Spanish culture and influence thrown in there, but Sicilians? Apparently,

“During the mid to late 1800’s large numbers of Sicilians came to the United States and settled in New Orleans where there were the most opportunities for work in the cotton, vegetable and fish markets. New Orleans had the largest population of Sicilians at this time.”

According to this website on Sicilian culture, the events that form a background for this novel of a Sicilian boy in southern Louisiana in the late 1800’s are true. In 1890, the chief of of police in New Orleans, David Hennessey, was assassinated. SInce he was investigating the Sicilian Mafia before he was killed, hundreds of Italian immigrants were arrested in connection with his death, and six men were indicted, tried . . . and acquitted. However, some of them, at least, were still in jail after their acquittal, and eleven Italian immigrants were pulled from the jailhouse, beaten, shot, and two of them lynched, one hung from a lamppost in the streets of New Orleans.

And I never heard anything about this episode in American history. Alligator Bayou takes place in 1899, after the Crescent CIty lynchings as they’re called, and in the strory a group of Sicilian immigrants are living in a small town trying to make a new life for themselves after fleeing the violence in New Orleans. One of these Sicilians is fourteen year old Calogero Scalise, who works in his uncle’s grocery store, takes lessons from a white man named Frank Raymond, and has a crush on a beautiful girl named Patricia.

I was fascinated with this story, mostly because I’d never heard anything about Sicilians in Louisiana, much less all the Mafia scare-induced prejudice toward Italians in the South. When I think Italian Americans, I’m thinking of New Jersey. Anyway, good story, sad, but well-written with a good portrayal of what it was like too be non-white, caught between cultures in the Deep South around the turn of the century.

Now I want to see the 1999 movie that I found while researching the background for this novel: Vendetta starring Christopher Walken. Has anyone seen it? Is it any good?

North of Beautiful by Justina Chen Headley

It could be just another YA “problem novel”: girl with a birthmark on her face and a domineering, verbally abusive father learns to accept herself. End of story.

However, North of Beautiful transcends the problem-of-the-week genre, and it’s a truly beautiful novel. The strength of the book is in its treatment of relationships and family dynamics. Terra Cooper, the protagonist of the novel, isn’t just a girl with low self esteem because of her facial disfigurement and her controlling dad. Although she is that, Terra is much more complicated than that stereotype would indicate. She’s her mom’s rescuer, until she realizes that her mom has been rescuing Terra all her life. She’s a teenage girl in love, but she’s not sure which guy she’s in love with. She’s an artist if she can figure out what True Beauty really is. She’s a mapmaker, and a world traveller, and a master of camouflage.

The only problem I had with this novel, and it may be a reader problem rather than an issue with the novel itself, is that I got lost a few times with some transitions that seemed a bit abrupt. Sometimes I had to re-read a few paragraphs to see whether I was in the past or the present because I didn’t get enough clues to know when the transitions were taking place. This disorientation happened to me mostly in the first part of the novel, so maybe I just wasn’t paying enough attention and my focus improved later.

Even if the writing was really uneven at the beginning of the novel, it’s worth the effort. Terra’s continuing insights into herself and her family members and her friends are worthy of an artist. I wanted to see one of Terra’s collages, buy one, because they became so real to me while reading the story. I recommend this one for young adults and adults who are interested in thinking about our society’s concepts of beauty and the value of physical beauty. There’s some mild sexual content, but it’s not gratuitous, but rather integral to the character development.

Other bloggers review North of Beautiful:

Becky’s Book Reviews: “The book is complex–so many layers of life, of interests, of passions, of intense relationships. And life is complex. So it’s authentic enough there. And the plot–in its details–isn’t typical at all. Terra’s mother and Jacob’s mother are two of the main characters of the book. How often does one mom–let alone two moms–play an important role in book? (This emphasis on moms was something I liked about the book, too, probably because I am the age of those moms in the book.)

Heather at What Was I Reading?: “I liked the plot of this story, and that’s what kept me reading. Although I’d read reviews of this book and pretty much knew straight away (knowing what I knew of the long-distance trip that happened with Terra and some other peeps), I still liked where the story was going well enough to keep reading. I guess I’m kind of a sucker for stories of self-discovery, even when the self-discovery is over-wrought and you see it coming a mile away.”

Tarie interviews Justina Chen Headley at Into the Wardrobe.

The Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones by Helen Hemphill

Time reading: 2.5 hours
Pages: 228
Total time spent on 48 Hour Challenge so far: 9.25 hours

Helen Hemphill has written an engaging western novel for middle school and high school age young people with The Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones. I’m a fan. It’s interesting that this book carries much the same theme as the Octavian Nothing books that I read for my first entries in the 48 Hour Book Challenge: racial prejudice and injustice, proving oneself as a man, the tragedy of fallen man.

Deadwood Jones is a black cowboy whose story is an amalgam of Nat Love, a true-life African American cowboy of the late 1800’s, Deadwood DIck, a dime novel hero invented by author Edward Wheeler, and dozens of other cowboys, black, white, and Latino, that Mrs. Hemphill read about in her research. The story of Deadwood Jones is a rousing adventure with some humor and quite a dose of tragedy, and it demonstrates what the life of a cowboy was most likely to have been like while enticing the reader to keep reading with a couple of subplots concerning Jones’s search for his long lost father and his quest for justice in an essentially lawless frontier.

Do boys still read Westerns? If so, The Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones should be a winner for those who enjoy such a setting. I was reminded, not of other western novels because my reading of cowboy stories has been somewhat limited, but rather of the classic TV series Gunsmoke and Bonanza. I think that’s high enough praise right there.

Cynsations interview with author Helen Hemphill.

Two by Laurie Halse Anderson

Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson. Viking, 2007.

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson. Viking, 2009.

Ms. Anderson is a skilled writer. Her contemporary YA novel Speak was “haunting and memorable.” (Semicolon review here.) Twisted, written from a male protagonist’s point of view is, well, rather twisted, but also thought-provoking even now, three weeks after I’ve read the book and returned it to the library. Wintergirls, Ms. Anderson’s newest novel, is twisted, haunting, and memorable and eventually crosses the line into downright disturbing.

Put it this way: I let my fourteen year old read Speak because I thought it dealt with a subject she should know about and be on guard against. I let her read Twisted because I thought she was naive about teenage boys and the fact that even “nice” boys think about sex . . . a lot, especially when confronted with immodestly and skimpily clad teenage girls. Ms. Anderson did an excellent job of getting inside the mind of a fairly typical teenage boy without making him into a saint or a hero or a total scumbag.

However, I don’t want Brown Bear Daughter to read Wintergirls. I’m not saying that the book is poorly written or pornographic, but do I really want my dancer daughter who already deals with body image issues (as do most teen girls) to read, to become immersed in, the seriously disturbed thoughts of a suicidal anorexic teenage girl? To read WIntergirls is to become immersed in an alternative universe in which thin is fat, eating is evil, and the self is to be annihilated. It’s scary and dark and very real. The book does hold out some hope, but not much.

So what I’m saying that it’s so well written that I don’t want impressionable teens to read it. Forget impressionable teens, impressionable anyage should beware. Enter at your own risk. Parental guidance suggested for both books, but there is some worthwhile stuff here.

Reading Wintergirls made me pray for those I know who have dealt with eating disorders or who are still living in the thrall of anorexia or bulimia. Reading Twisted reminded me of what a dangerous and twisted world we live in.

Gringolandia by Lyn Miller-Lachman

I must say upfront that the political agenda in this YA novel made me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s a good thing; we all need to have our assumptions challenged at times, especially political assumptions. However, I don’t know enough about the historical and geographical setting of the book, late twentieth century Chile, to know whether the author was portraying events and government actions accurately and fully or not.

That said, the book is set in Chile—Pinochet’s Chile. The CIA is the villainous corporation in the background, and protagonist Daniel’s Communist father, Marcelo, is the good guy. In 1980 when Daniel was only twelve years old the police arrested Marcelo because he was the publisher and primary journalist for an underground newspaper written in opposition to Chile’s military regime.

After his father’s arrest, Daniel, his mother, and his younger sister Tina flee to Wisconsin while his father remains imprisoned in Chile. Although the small family tries to influence the Chilean government to release Marcelo and other prisoners of conscience, they are also making a new life for themselves in Wisconsin and becoming part of “Gringolandia”, a land their father hates because of its support for Pinochet and his thugs.

When Marcelo is released from prison and rejoins his family in the U.S., there are problems that seem to keep multiplying. How can Marcelo recover menatlly and physically from the years of imprisonment and torture? What is he to do with his life now that he is free? Is Daniel Chilean or American, chileno or gringo? What about Daniel’s gringa girlfriend? Will she ever be able to understand what it means to fight against a repressive and dictatorial government? Can Daniel and his father restore the father/son relationship that was interrupted by his father’s arrest? Can Daniel’s mother return to a traditional marriage relationship after six years of independence in the U.S.?

The story edges into a kind of racism or xenophobia that implies that someone from another culture or country can never understand or relate to a native of, for instance, Chile. This premise is never stated, but it is there under the surface. Also, the ideas that Salvador Allende was a hero, the socialist saviour of Chile (questionable) and that Pinochet was a power-hungry and thuggish dictator (probably quite true) are basic to the story, and again, I’m not really prepared to evaluate the evidence for and against those characterizations. I have heard of the “desaparecidos” during Pinochet’s rule, from 1973-1990, and I’m sure that the imprisonment and torture described in the book were tragically common and standard practice in Chile at the time.

Altogether, Gringolandia was a good story, a useful look at one family’s immigrant experience, and an education in the politics, history, and culture of Chile. I didn’t like the ending of the story very much, but I felt it was realistic and probable for the characters as I’d gotten to know them over the course of the book.