Love is the Higher Law, by David Levithan

5982447Claire, Jasper, and Peter all experience the tragedy of 9/11 in different ways. They are all only barely connected – Claire goes to school with Peter, who meets Jasper at a party and makes a date with him not long before the towers fall. Love is the Higher Law is a shifting narrative, from one character to the next, and subsists far less on plot and more on the emotional impact of 9/11.

Since there isn’t really a story/plot in this book, I can’t really say much about it in terms of story. In terms of characterization, though, Levithan has done an amazing job here. I’ve come to expect that from Levithan. He can make me like and sympathize with characters that I initially can’t stand (like Jasper), and the emotions he writes out are genuine without ever being melodramatic. I was most interested in Claire’s story and wished more of the focus had been on her, especially as she starts the book off, but after awhile I became interested in Jasper and Peter too. I also wish the book had ended sooner, because the last few chapters felt more didactic and focused on impeding war. They didn’t fit as well with the rest of the book.

On the plus side, though, I loved hearing about 9/11 from the point of view of people who lived in NYC at the time. We all have our stories, but honestly I imagine the experience for someone who lived there is different from those of us who saw it on the news. There were things I had never thought about, like the smell or the papers from inside the tower offices that got blown into yards around the city. Even though I remember vividly what happened that day, this was a new experience for me. It’s the most powerful thing about 9/11 that I’ve ever read.

[And, on a sidenote, I found out one horrible tidbit about American law – a man who has had sex with another man, even once, even protected, is not eligible to donate blood. I was appalled to find this out! It’s such an antiquated and bigoted law! I have no idea what I can do about it, but it makes me very angry and I’m glad to have become aware of this!]

Posted in 2010, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged | Leave a comment

Esperanza Rising, by Pam Munoz Ryan

Esperanza_RisingThirteen-year-old Esperanza has led a comfortable and sheltered life on her father’s ranch in Mexico. Her family has money and land. Esperanza has everything she could want, from servants to wait on her to her parents’ love. After tragedy strikes, however, the family is uprooted and must move to America, right around the time of the Great Depression. Esperanza’s whole life changes, and she must find a way to start over.

I found this book in the children’s section of B&N a few months back when I was browsing. It looked really good. Immigration, particularly from Mexico, is obviously a very big issue where I’m from, being so close to the border here. While the book is set 80 years ago, many of the issues it brought up are similar to ones we have today. It’s a very good book for kids to read to learn both about history and current affairs. I like the duality of it.

I’m not going to say that this book was completely satisfying, issues-wise, from an adult point of view. I’ve read many beautiful adult books on immigration, poverty, striking, migrant workers, and more, and Esperanza Rising can’t really compare to the depths that those books have taken me. From a child’s point of view, however, this book is excellent. It presents enough of the issue to get them to start thinking, without laying a bias on any side of each argument. It has hope as well as sorrow, something many adult books on this subject lack. It’s also got a strong enough plot to keep a kid interested even if the issues don’t captivate them. I’m glad to have read Esperanza Rising and I’ve already passed it down to my boys.

Posted in 2010, Children's, Prose | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

19 Varieties of Gazelle, by Naomi Shihab Nye

poetryThis small book of poetry is subtitled “Poems of the Middle East.” I first got interested in reading some of Nye’s poetry when I saw her at a poetry reading last year. I finally got this book around Christmas.

Once again, I must say I am just not a poetry person. I keep trying, all different sorts from all different time periods, and I don’t know. I just can’t read the stuff. I tried reading this one poem a day, then several a day, and when neither of those really worked, a whole bunch all at once, to try to get into a rhythm. Nothing. There were a couple poems I sort of liked, and the rest I don’t even remember. This is the third book of poetry I’ve read this year and I’m just about to throw up my hands and say never mind.

There are still three left that I want to try – Sonnets From the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the Ariel poems by Sylvia Plath, and If Not, Winter by Sappho. I will try them this year, and if none of them work out, I’m calling my exploration of poetry done.

On the plus side, my son Morrigan loves poetry, and he’s really excited about reading this book.

Posted in 2010, Poetry, Young Adult | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Adoration of Jenna Fox, by Mary Pearson

jenna-foxJenna Fox is in a major accident and lives in a coma for 18 months. When she wakes up, she remembers nothing. Her family is very anxious for her to get better, but Jenna senses something is wrong. She struggles to figure out what is off about her identity in a world where science has crossed many ethical boundaries.

I’ve see The Adoration of Jenna Fox all over the place and I’m glad I finally got to pick it up. It’s YA dystopia, but it’s less dystopia as in “government controlling the world” and more as in “advances in science are destroying humanity.” I don’t want to give away any of the plot points, though Jenna’s condition becomes fairly obvious within the first half of the book. I was really wondering how Pearson was going to stretch out this secret for the other half, and was glad when those secrets I suspected were confirmed/fleshed out right around the midway point of the book. The rest of the book dealt much more with ethics and where the line should be drawn between science and nature.

Several weeks after finishing the book, I’m still not sure what to think of it. In the first half, I really enjoyed the book. I had heard several people say it was too shallow, but I didn’t find it shallow at all. I found it very focused and I liked the character development and the natural progression of things. In the second half of the book, however, the plot started to unravel. I wondered if that was done on purpose, since Jenna feels her own world unraveling, but it doesn’t feel intentional. It feels more as if Pearson wanted to bring up too many different aspects in the ethics vs science debate, and none of them got touched on enough. It felt unfocused and scattered, and suddenly my brain was working in too many directions at once and I could no longer process what was going on. I didn’t like that.

Then there was the ending, a very ambiguous one that left me to wonder if Adoration followed a traditional dystopian end or if Pearson was simply undecided herself on which side of the argument should win. It disturbed me and I really didn’t like the ending. If I wasn’t meant to, then good! It was well done! But if I was supposed to be happy with it, that freaks me out a little bit. The ending fairly well horrified me.

I don’t know. In the end, I’m just undecided about this book. It brought up a lot of great issues, but I feel like it fell apart in the second half. I wish it had stayed more focused. Still, it kept my attention and I imagine I’m going to keep thinking about it for a long time, because the issues it brought up are very relevant even in today’s world. Science is already advancing over nature, from things that seem harmless (like engineering plants that will grow better) to more questionable practices (cloning, stem-cell research). Pearson presented a good picture of where we might be headed if we don’t think real hard about the decisions we’re making now.

Posted in 2010, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged | Leave a comment

Candide, by Voltaire

1candideCandide is a satire from mid-1700s France. It’s one that’s always intimidated me. I thought it would be dense and difficult to read. Nothing could be further from the truth.

This book was hysterical. Candide is a young student in a beautiful castle. He’s booted out after he kisses the fair young lady who lives there and sets off on a series of misadventures around the world. His philosophy teacher always maintained that all is exactly as it should be, for better or for worse, and Candide carries that optimism with him despite being beaten, tortured, and more.

Much of the book is set up a lot like Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift, except perhaps not so cynical and serious. Swift sounds miserable even as he’s joking and satirical. Voltaire, on the other hand, sounds like he’s giggling the whole time you’re reading. The book is full of innuendo. Nearly every chapter has something to make a reader laugh. He never says what he’s implying, and I love it. For example, in the first chapter the fair young lady from the castle, Lady Cunegonde, is walking outdoors:

One day as Cunegonde was walking near the castle in the little wood known as “the park,” she saw Dr. Pangloss in the bushes, giving a lesson in experimental physics to her mother’s chambermaid, a very pretty and docile little brunette. Since Lady Cunegonde was deeply interested in the sciences, she breathlessly observed the repeated experiments that were performed before her eyes. She clearly saw the doctor’s sufficient reason, and the operation of cause and effect. She then returned home, agitated and thoughtful, reflecting that she might be young Candide’s sufficient reason, and he hers.

I have to say, that was not what I was expecting from this book at all! The whole book was like that! Not always the same type of joke, but always these little asides that don’t really say what it’s actually saying. Voltaire pokes at his enemies, at the journals that frequently attack him, and more, while still making satire of certain philosophies that he disagrees with.

Frankly, I don’t know enough about philosophy to really understand all that Voltaire was trying to do here. I’ll be studying this book a lot more over the next month until my book club discusses it, because while none of the innuendos went over my head, the jabs at philosophy sure did. It’s not that they weren’t easy to see or understand – it’s not like the Russian tomes that spend a million pages discussing philosophy – but when Voltaire would crack a joke about a religious group or philosophy that I didn’t know, I just didn’t know exactly what he meant. The book was never confusing, though. It existed on many levels of humor so that you could just pass up the ones that didn’t appeal to you or make sense to you.

I do know that over time, Candide’s eternal optimism is dampened. He keeps trying to hold it up, but some of his fellow travelers have a much more realistic view of the world and he encounters several pessimistic philosophers along the way. But pessimism doesn’t seem to do any better than optimism. Keep in mind, of course, that I’m no philosopher myself, but it seems that the lesson to be learned from this book is that philosophy and philosophical thinking in general is the root of discontentment. It doesn’t matter if you’re positive or negative; if you’re just thinking and not working, you’re going to be miserable. Either you’ll go out and get into a bunch of scrapes, or you’ll stay at home bored. But if you fill your life with work, your life won’t be empty and you won’t get hurt. I don’t know that I agree with that either, plus it’s likely I’m interpreting the book all wrong, but that’s what I got out of it.

I’m very much looking forward to studying Candide, particularly the significance of the “perfect world” society of Eldorado (similar to Swift’s Houyhnhnms, or intelligent horse race). I wanted to write up this review with my initial thoughts, though, no matter how wrong I might be, before I did any studying. I very much enjoyed the book for the humor alone, and I’m sure, once I study it, I’ll enjoy it for its significance too. I’m glad I finally overcame my fear to read Candide!

Posted in 2010, Adult, Prose | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Sold, by Patricia McCormick

40577411Lakshmi is a thirteen-year-old girl who lives in poverty in a small village in Nepal. Her family sends her away to work as a maid in a rich family’s house, but in actuality Lakshmi is sold into prostitution in India. Told in a series of prose-poem-like vignettes, Sold shows Lakshmi’s journey from poverty, through the dangerous route to India, to her struggles in the brothel, to her fear at the risk of possibly escaping.

This is an incredibly powerful story. At first, I was put off by the style of the book. I’m not a big fan of vignette-formatted books. However, as Lakshmi’s story progressed, the form no longer mattered and I was drawn into her world completely. I was with her as she’s passed off as a twelve-year-old virgin for months on end, drugged into lying still for men who pass through endlessly. I ached for her as the brothel leader beat her with leather straps and as she tried to remember all the sights and smells from her home. Everything she felt – anxiety, homesickness, numbness, loss, pain, even budding happiness at little things such as a new pencil – I felt right alongside her. The last lines of the book were so powerful that I closed the book and just began crying.

This is Lakshmi’s story, but it isn’t just Lakshmi’s story. The author’s afterword talks about the sex trafficking industry in India. The numbers estimated of girls either purposely or unwittingly sold into the sex trade are astounding and horrific. What makes this book so powerful is the fact that it could be any girl’s story. The details are unimportant. It could be any country that deals in sex trade, any girl sold into slavery, any brothel that sells out women or young girls. Though many of us have never experienced something so horrible, it is nonetheless a universal story. McCormick helps the reader to know, firsthand, exactly what these girls go through.

So powerful. I’m not even sure what else I can say, but I have to say that this is one of those books that I think everyone should be exposed to, and that isn’t something I say very often. It’s such an important book about such an important topic. It didn’t matter that the form was not my favorite type of book or whatever flaws I might have found. In the end, all that mattered was Lakshmi, and all the poor girls that Lakshmi represents, those without a voice who suffer in this silent slavery. Please read it. I don’t think you’ll be sorry.

Posted in 2010, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Trance, by Linda Gerber

TranceAshlyn and her older sister, Kyra, see visions of the future. They go into trances and see random glimpses of images. While they see, they write number sequences that they can’t make sense of. They’ve never been able to stop their visions from coming, or prevent the things they see from happening, not even when it came to their own mother’s death. Now that their mother is gone, their family is torn apart. Kyra disappears, and Ashlyn’s father throws himself into his work. Then, Ashlyn begins to see visions again. Without Kyra’s help, she can’t figure out what she’s seeing. All she knows is that the vision shows her someone she’s just met, and she can’t bear to lose someone else important to her.

This was a really fun book to read. I spent an afternoon curled up with this book and didn’t put it down until I was done. I loved learning a little about numerology and how it tied into the plot. I liked the characters and learning about their stories. I thought Gerber did a good job balancing the mystery and paranormal parts of the book with the grief of a family torn apart. The only part that bothered me was I hated the way Ashlyn’s father forced her to take her mother’s place: keep the house clean, pay the bills, balance the checkbook, grocery shop, manage Dad’s schedule, etc. It’s not unrealistic, but still disgusting! I was hoping Ashlyn would rebel against this, but alas, no.

Posted in 2010, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Bartleby the Scrivener, by Herman Melville

bartleby2I know, I know. People hear “Herman Melville” and automatically want to run. I completely understand. I was forced to read Billy Budd in high school and I HATED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. I avoid Moby Dick like the plague. I had planned to never have anything to do with Melville again.

Then, for my family reading club last month, Jason asked me to read this Melville novella. He said that it is very different from any of the whaling/fishing stories and more like a precursor to Kafka’s surrealism (which I do love). If nothing else, he said, at least it’s short. It’s only 40 pages long.

Sigh. So I tried it. I read the thing. Like he said, it’s only 40 pages. But unfortunately, unlike with other classic authors that I find I can stand on second try, Melville still put a bad taste in my mouth. The first quarter of the novella was all description and 3-page-long blocks of text. I admit to skimming it. Nothing in that first quarter ever became important for me to know. Once the plot actually started – what little plot that was there, anyway – I began to read.

The plot goes like this: the narrator is a lawyer and hires scriveners (copy-lawyers) in a small firm. He tells a story about the strange people scriveners are, particularly this one named Bartleby. Bartleby is hired and at first seems to be diligent and reliable. Then, however, our narrator asks him to do a different task. Bartleby responds with, “I would prefer not to.” No matter what he’s asked to do, he refuses with that phrase. He prefers not to. At first, he simply prefers not to run errands or check the texts he’s copied out. Then he would prefer not to copy at all and instead spends all day staring at the wall. He prefers not to eat. He prefers not to leave the office. He prefers not to be dismissed for not doing his job duties. He prefers not to have any changes at all.

I can see what Jason means. There is a certain element of Kafka-like surrealism. I’m afraid, however, that I don’t really see the point to this novella. Whereas with Kafka, there are so many layers I can pick apart, I think I’m just not smart enough to grasp what Melville is trying to say. There are apparently tons of different interpretations of Bartleby’s character, from a symbol of depression to a stand against American economics to a shade of Melville himself. But even after reading all the different ways people have interpreted this novella over the years, I still don’t get it.

Sorry, Jase, but I’m afraid Melville and I will probably never be friends.

Posted in 2010, Adult, Prose | Tagged | Leave a comment

Shine, Coconut Moon, by Neesha Meminger

ShineCoconutMoonSamar is Indian-American and has spent her life not knowing any of her family except her mother. When her uncle shows up a few days after the September 11th attacks, everything changes. Samar begins to question her past and wants to learn more about her family and her heritage. At the same time, suspicion increases against non-white Americans, and Samar finds herself at the center of some really awful prejudice.

I was really happy to hear about this book when Melissa reviewed it a few months ago. The discrimination against Muslims, Arabs, Indians, and “brown” people in general that popped up after 9/11 has always really bothered me. Everyone from certain parts of the world is suddenly considered a terrorist or a potential terrorist, and that really makes me angry. It makes me angry that when Nidal Malik Hasan attacked Fort Hood, he was automatically labeled a terrorist because of his nationality, before anyone even knew why he attacked, but when Andrew Joseph Stack flew a plane into the IRS building in Austin, he was automatically excused of the label because he was white. If Stack hadn’t been white, our country would have automatically vilified him and tried to connect him to Al-Qaida. That’s just to give one example.

So yes. This is an issue that I pay a lot of attention to, so I knew I had to get my hands on this book as soon as I could. I finally got to read it, and loved every page.

One of the primary themes in Shine, Coconut Moon is prejudice, and that’s the theme I want to concentrate on here. Prejudice takes many different forms, and many of them are addressed in the book. I’m feeling a little brain-dead at the moment, so instead of writing them all out, I’m just going to bullet-point list examples. Forgive my laziness.

  • Samar’s Uncle Sandeep, who wears a turban, is harassed, threatened, and insulted because of the way he looks and the clothes he wears.
  • Because Samar knows nothing about her heritage and doesn’t go out of her way to hang out with other Indian-Americans at school, they call her a coconut and discriminate against her.
  • Because the other Indian-Americans at school hang out in a single group instead of with the white kids, Samar dismisses them as potential friends.
  • Samar judges other kids based on a couple facts she knows about them, rather than getting to know them personally.
  • Samar’s grandparents are racially biased against darker Indians and prefer lighter skin. They claim they cannot change this because it is the way they grew up.
  • Samar’s mother is biased against her parents, family, and heritage for multiple reasons and refuses to give them a chance, judging them all based on things she suffered through many decades earlier.
  • A character named Balvir wishes Sikhism wasn’t lumped in with Islam, so that the discrimination against the Sikhs would stop, but is then confronted by another character, Shazia, a Muslim who asks if prejudice would be more acceptable directed only towards some innocent people instead of many.
  • There is discussion about racial prejudice used as fodder for TV shows and in the media.
  • Lastly, there is reference to governmental hysteria and the Japanese internment camps around WWII, an extreme form of blanket racial prejudice.

While not all of these forms of prejudice can realistically get better, many of the characters come to understand their own biases and discrimination. They learn and they grow in a very believable and realistic way.

Beyond prejudice, this book is also about finding yourself, learning the truth about history, the importance of family, religious growth, and friendship. I wish I could talk about all these things, particularly the limited scope of history taught in schools – Texas Board of Education, anyone? – and the balance between keeping your cultural heritage and assimilating into a new culture. If I talk about each one of them, however, this review will be far, far longer than anyone will want to read. Instead I’ll just have to encourage people to get a copy of it and read it! This is a book that itches for discussion. I expected to like it, but I didn’t expect to get so much out of it, or for it to make me think as much as it did.

Posted in 2010, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged , | 1 Comment

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