Monday, July 16, 2018

Summer Book Binging: Important Books about Race


If you are looking to expand your mind this summer...

So far this summer I've read quite a few "important" books, books that I think contribute something important to the current cultural conversations we are having about racism, social media, and social activism.

The book I've most liked so far was Dear Martin by Nic Stone, one of the most recommended books of the year so far (along with The Hate U Give, which is still on my hold list for a at least a few more weeks). The premise is interesting: after an unfortunate run-in with the police, an innocent black teen begins writing letters to Martin Luther King Jr., trying to process the incident and what he can do about the racism that suddenly seems to be all around him. What I like is that this book approaches the topics of police brutality, the inescapability of the media (both the 24 hour mainstream media and social media), and equity through a variety of perspectives (though the narrator is consistently the not-so-subtly-named Justyce). This book felt ripped from the headlines, and it reminded me of the poem "When I Think of Tamir Rice While Driving", which my Honors English II class (who just graduated, *sniffle*) read in 2016.

The perspective in this story has such value for students precisely because it embraces so many perspectives. Because of interactions with white and black boys and girls of privilege through his private school, black boys from Justyce's own segregated and impoverished neighborhood, and even adults like parents and teachers, Justyce shows the reader the complexity of race relations and realities in America, and gives insight to readers who might not otherwise have exposure to these perspectives in a logical and interesting way. The School Library Journal agrees:
 "The length and pace of this well-written story make it a perfect read for reluctant and sophisticated readers alike. The main characters are well balanced and will resonate with teens. However, the voice of African American women is largely absent from the narrative. The characterizations of Justyce’s mother and his girlfriend are one-dimensional compared to some of the other protagonists."
While the SLJ has a valid point that there are some voices underrepresented in this story, I think the value of this story is that it provides a variety of perspectives. (In fact, the SLJ recommendation is that it be read in conjunction with the book below...though it also doesn't provide as much representation to women!)

Based on the recommendation of a student this year, I then read the audiobook All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely. I also picked up the e-book, so that I could switch back and forth during nap time and driving in the car/making food (because, you know, that's what moms do the most of during the summer), and I fell in love with the dual-narrators.

This made me think all the way back to the George Zimmerman case of 2013 (in which a man in Florida was acquitted of shooting an unarmed black teenager who had the audacity to be wearing a hooded sweatshirt), as Rashad (voice #1), a JROTC member and artist--who happens to be black-- is beaten into the hospital by a police officer after a white woman trips over him in a convenience store. Now, this book could easily just follow this story, but instead, the book switches to the voice of Quinn, a white teen who is a top basketball player and son of a fallen soldier, who witnesses the beating in his walk to the convenience store (trying to score some beer for a party, btw!). When it is revealed that the officer involved was his best friend's brother, a man who was like a second father to Quinn, Quinn must decide which is stronger: his conscience or his loyalty to his family and white community. This second perspective helps to show the factors that complicate the story, which feels like it should be an open-and-shut case, and how race invariably matters.

One elements I really liked was the way the students acted to make a difference, and the teens had to make difficult choices. The bold act of civil disobedience (or vandalism, if you look at it from another perspective) of spray-painting "Rashad is absent again today" leads to a twitter movement reminiscent of #blacklivesmatter that shows the power of social media AND activists for organizing. I also liked the "uncertainty" of the ending; I know that this frustrated the student who recommended the book, but I think given the real-life lack of resolution surrounding these situations, the way the story ended (no spoilers) was appropriate. There were several twists in the story that complicated matters, preventing the story from being an oh-so-obvious black vs. white conflict, and making it more of a nuanced examination of society--and what teenagers today can do to shape the world around them. Although some have criticized the quality of the writing, I appreciated the authenticity of the voices, which felt all the more authentic because of the wonderful job the audiobook readers did with the two voices; when I switched to the e-book, it wasn't quite as captivating, but the plot of the story was a winner.

Pernille Ripp led me to my next book, Love, Hate, and Other Filters by Samira Ahmed, which was chosen as a Global Read Aloud book for YA. This reminded me of another book I read, When Dimple Met Rishi, which looks at the struggles of a second-generation immigrant girl as she tries to live her American dream and please her parents, who still have old-world expectations.

This book followed Maya Aziz, an Indian-American Muslim teen who just wants to make movies. The story begins with her at a big Indian wedding, trying to avoid her mother's match-making efforts by taking wedding video.  Maya is in many ways a typical, sarcastic teen girl who feels insecure, wants to date, and wants to strike out on her own. She shares, “One thing I’ve learned: people love a camera, and when I’m filming, they see it, not me, so whenever I need to, I can quietly disappear behind my trusty shield.” We quickly learn that she secretly applied to the NYU film program--and got in--and now that it is May and the deadline for payment is looming, she has to find a way to tell/convince her parents, who want her to stay local so they can watch over her, to let her go. How will she convince her well-meaning and practical dentist parents to let her live a life more like her graphic designer aunt?

The book could easily just be about this fairly common teen issue (how do I get my parents to accept my choices whilst not disappointing them), but from the beginning there is also this other weird voice. At the end of each chapter, we see a short snippet from someone else, a person who remains unnamed but who is obviously not our narrator. About 1/3 of the way through the book, a horrific event occurs that connects the snippets to Maya and turns her world upside down. BTW--the fact that terrorism and xenophobia become issues here, in a book about a Muslim teen, is not unexpected. It could be cliche--but it feels right, likely because of the care the author took to establish the narrator's voice and the cast of minor characters surrounding her, who would otherwise be one-dimensional (i.e. the supportive friend, the racist, the rebel, the mean girls, etc.). For example, Maya's friend Kareem adds levity and perspective  outside of Maya's small town; while his voice isn't especially memorable, it provides ample opportunity for Ahmed to showcase Maya's wit:
“I wish getting a Big Mac was still my biggest concern when I pass through customs these days,” Kareem mutters. “What is it, fries?” I joke. “More like hoping I don’t get chosen for the special Secondary Security Screening lottery.” 
This book is important in that the protagonist is not a white Christian character, but a character who is American all the same. This fiction helps normalize Maya, showing how a "brown, Muslim girl" is just a girl, and defying many stereotypes whilest not pretending that issues surrounding immigration and cultural incongruities don't exist. It also asks important questions about how we decide when to make a stand, when to take action because it is the right thing to do, and how much personal risk we are willing to assume to follow our hearts. I also like how the media is used sparingly in this story, showing how it both hurts and helps our understandings of "others"--especially in light of the current debates surrounding immigration at the Southern border, which came to a head when video of children crying out for their parents led to public outcry and a reversal of family separation policy.
This also seems relevant in light of the conflicts over the "Muslim Ban" that spent over a year in the courts. This book provides another look at how our society handles immigration and religious freedom without stereotyping or demonizing.

Heady stuff, I know, but really wonderful reads!

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Summer Book Bingeing: Books that Build on an Old Story

How to do it right...

It can be really tempting to build off an old story. In fact, according to authors like Thomas C. Foster (of How to Read Literature Like a Professor fame), most stories repeat the same basic premises anyway, so why not try a new take on an old story?

Well, a few books I've read so far this summer seem to provide a primer on what to do, and what not to do, when recycling.

The Overdrive (the app that allows many people with library card to downloard e-books and audiobooks) Big Library Read book is Cowboy Pride by Lacy Williams, which is a confessed re-imagining of Jane Austen's classic Pride and Prejudice set in the Wyoming frontier. I loves me a good book club, so I checked out the e-book, adjusted the night setting in the new Libby app, and read this book in about two hours...so in about 1/8 the time it would take to fly through the original. So, to start on a positive, it was short.

The problem with remaking a classic is that you will never compete with the original. Those old enough to remember when Gus Van Sant remade Alfred Hitchcock's classic film Psycho will remember how widely the film was trashed, not because it was inherently bad, but because it just wasn't as good as the widely lauded original. To quote "In Defense of Gus Van Sant's Pyscho Remake", "A remake that tries something new with the material, like David Cronenberg’s The Fly or John Carpenter’s The Thing, can be thought of as innovative. A remake that simple recreates what we’ve already seen? Well, that sounds downright nuts."

To be fair, this author doesn't copy and paste the book, and the preface clearly states that she could never do justice to the prose of the original, but that is precisely what made this book disappointing: the prose just wasn't that great. While it was interesting to think about what Elizabeth Bennett would be like in the old West (hint: still bookish and smart), the plot and conceits don't change all that substantially. For example, instead of holding a ball at his grand estate, as in the original, Bingley hosts a barn-raising. Instead of being a rich estate owner, Darcy is a rich rancher. Gossip and money still interfere with romance, and pride and prejudice abound. So, without any beautiful prose or snappy "magical" dialogue, the story just feels like a cheap imitation.

The author rightly points out that her version allows the reader to see more of the "behind the scenes" romance between Jane and Bingley and includes "cool cowboy things" like a train robbery, but I'd argue these elements are mere window-dressing that don't make up for cliche passages like "She'd never expected Nathan. Hadn't known a love so pure and true existed. She tilted her chin up, inviting a kiss, which he eagerly supplied." Reading this makes me feel a bit queasy, and not in the charming romantic way. It reminds me of a game my friends and I would play when we were teenagers, pulling one of those cheap romances off the shelves of a store, opening to a random page, and reading passionately to passers-by whatever drivel poured off the page. (Only this book is completely PG.)

While it is interesting to see things from the perspectives of Liza (Elizabeth), Janie (Jane), Bingley, and Darcy, the shifts in narration make the book more strange than helpful. While the narration allows a view into the character motivations that the original novel, with a limited third person narrator, did not provide, I'd argue this limited narration through Elizabeth's POV helped build the tension, making the reader think more deeply about the issues than if the characters merely confessed their feelings, as they do in this book. The realizations felt like they came too easily; perhaps this was because I KNEW what would happen, as the story faithfully followed the plot of the original. But then, that is the danger inherent in a remake. Unless there is a unique beauty or original twist, remaking a classic is just nuts.

With that said, I also read a fantastic take on an old story in Madeline Miller's new book Circe. I'd previously read Miller's Song of Achilles, which looked at the Trojan War of The Illiad through the POV of Patroclus, dear friend of Achilles. Circe likewise takes a relatively minor character from Greek myth and provides her with a story, including Odysseus and details from The Odyssey as almost an aside.

While The Odyssey focuses singularly on the man, the hero, Circe focuses on the woman (well, witch/demi-goddess, if you want to get technical). Instead of being a minor character in his story, Circe is imbued with a full life, complete with childhood, complex motivation (hints: daddy issues, mommy issues....really, a lot of issues with being part of a messed up divine family), and pride. The character and story are beautifully written, For example, the first paragraph of chapter one ironically states:
When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist. They called me nymph, assuming I would be like my mother and aunts and thousand cousins. Least of the lesser goddesses, our powers were so modest they could scarcely ensure our eternities. We spoke to fish and nurtured flowers, coaxed drops from the clouds or salt from the waves. That word, nymph, paced out the length and breadth of our futures. In our language, it means not just goddess, but bride.
I LOVE the subtle way Miller reviews the expectations for her female character, showing the subordination inherent in her position, but previewing that her ACTIONS are what will set her apart from the others and ensure her eternity--albeit as part of a man's story. The lyrical prose, imbued with both a peace and a bitterness from the start, captures the sense of the character as she is at the time of this telling (some unknown future), with the wisdom of experience that allows her to look a bit more objectively at events, but with all the "human" bitterness remaining.

I don't want to give away too much of the story, but those who have read The Odyssey will have some sense of the events that happen mid-book, when Odysseus lands on Circe's island. However, where the story goes from there is completely original and turns the myth of the hero on its face, showing a more realistic and human Odysseus...and making the Greek gods all the more wonderfully flawed.

Although it is set in the traditions of ancient Greece, this is truly a book for today, as Circe finds the power within her (both literally and figuratively) to defy the odds and do the impossible. I can't recommend this beautiful and interesting book enough.

So what went right? The author did NOT attempt a recreation. Instead, she took a minor character and told--not just Odysseus's story--but a larger, original myth from her perspective. In the process, Miller artfully weaves in the stories of other famous Greek heroes, gods, and monsters, and this keeps the narrative lively both before and after Odysseus's appearance. The combination of old-story, new perspective, and enchanting writing made this a winner.


Saturday, July 14, 2018

Summer Book Bingeing Part I: Weird books

Averaging a book a day isn't normal...and neither are these books!

If books were chocolate cake, I'd weigh about 1000 pounds by now, and with all my reading, I've been a bit lax about posting. But given all I've read, I think I'm going to separate my posts by type...and see what arises!

I guess I've been really inspired by following another blogger Pernille Ripp. She is a passionate reader who not only has great advice for teachers, but also great book recommendations based on the reading she and her students do. Given many of the books are YA, which tend to be a bit shorter than other books, I guess it is no surprise that at this point I've read about 30 books this summer...with more to come!

I think the book that most surprised me so far this summer was Grasshopper Jungle, which was an award-winning book mentioned on Ripp's blog as something the boys in her class loved. It was WEIRD. Now, keep in mind, I didn't bother reading the cover, and I should have, because the second word in the front cover blurb is "bizarre". I was expecting a basic coming of age story...not something science fictionish, but then again, I loved the relationships between the main characters, the honest look at love and sex, and, of course, the banter. The dialogue was so honest, crisp, and funny that I could entirely imagine this as a movie (though because of the "raunchy" element, I'm not sure it would ever pass the PG-13 test for most teen movies...and the special effects would have to be off the charts). [BTW--I Googled it, and apparently they ARE making a movie out of this!]

I also think that this is a book not just for boys, but for anyone who appreciates quirky things, like second-hand stores and adventures to climb up on a roof to retrieve stolen shoes and skateboards...and quirkier things, like genetically altered killer mutants. I don't want to spoil the ending, but I can honestly say I didn't quite expect it--or maybe I didn't want to. While it got a bit cliche toward the end (I could imagine Will Smith and Jeff Goldbloom in Independence Day as the boys bantered and rode together in their car), I appreciated the authenticity of the narrator, who was lovably immature and just the right amount of confused to strike me as a typical--and anything but typical--teenage boy.

Speaking of teen boy narrators, I really liked Challenger Deep by award-winning author Neal Shusterman. I had no idea what to expect from this book, but I know of the author, so when this audiobook came up as available on my library app, I downloaded first and asked questions later.

I'll admit that it was a bit hard to follow at first, but that was kind of the point, as the narrator isn't fully aware of what is going on. However, through flashbacks, we quickly catch up to what led to Caden's present day problems. In a sense, the story is told in two settings: the real word and the world of a ship at sea, headed for the Marianas Trench and the deepest point on earth. The story vacillates between these settings, and I loved the way everything begins to come together and make sense for the reader as it begins to make sense for the narrator. I don't want to spoil what happens, but you can probably guess that something isn't mentally quite right for the narrator, and so this book provides a powerful approximation of mental illness. As Laurie Halse Anderson (author of Speak) said, this book is "a brilliant journey across the dark sea of the mind."

Earlier in the year I read another of Shusterman's books Bruiser, which is told through the POV of
Tennyson and Bronte, twins in a family that is falling apart because of their parents' infidelity, and the POV of Brewster, whom the student body call Bruiser, on account of his enormity. The teens seem to be worlds apart, with the twins living a middle class existence with professor parents, while Bruiser lives in a run-down house with his drunk uncle and accident-prone little brother after his mother's death. However, when they make an effort to get to know each other, the teens are surprised by what they find (I won't spoil the twist). Like Challenger Deep, this book also looked at big questions through a somewhat fantastical lens, questions such as "To what extent will be put ourselves through pain for those we love?" Although the end was a bit disappointing, I loved the premise, and how all of the characters had to explore questions of love, selfishness, and selflessness. I also liked that the surreal elements of the book didn't feel far-fetched, making the premise less of a distraction and more of a means to explore these very human questions and issues that we deal with daily in our friendships, families, and romantic relationships.

I also read several obviously fantasy/sci-fi books. One is a new classic, Cinder by Marissa Meyer, which is a futuristic take on the classic Cinderalla story that several former students have read and loved. The premise that Cinder is a cyborg who is treated as less than human by her stepmother, stepsister (the other stepsister is nice), and society raises questions about how we treat "others" today: what makes us view people as less-than-human? What about race and class really matters? This is exacerbated when she meets the teen idol prince of the realm (Earth is now made of big territories, and this one seems to be formed out of southeast Asia), who hears of Cinder's skill as a mechanic and enlists her help with an andriod. Because the prince doesn't realize Cinder is a cyborg, we get to indulge in these questions of who has value--and wonder if the prince will cast her aside if he realizes what she really is.

Also adding to the value of this book is the plague that is ravaging
the world. The plague is obviously reminiscent of the Bubonic plague of the middle ages, with its deadly, skin-color-changing lesions, mysterious origins, and hard-to-predict path through the population. As cyborgs are used as guinea-pigs to look for a cure, it becomes clear that this book is looking not at the future, but at the present, and what extent we will go to if such a pandemic were to arise today. (And there always seems to be such a threat...whether we are talking ebola in Africa or swine flu.) While the addition of the mind-controlling moon people (called Lunars) seems weird at first, the author brings together the many threads of this story into a unique take on the Cinderella story that asks a lot of important questions...but doesn't provide as many answers (as you will have to read parts 2-4 of the Lunar Chronicles to find out what happens next). I liked the empowered Cinderella, and I'm a sucker for a new take on an old story, especially when it avoids plagiarism and uses the old story to provide enough predictability to add original plot, but the audiobook didn't have as much character as I would have liked. Perhaps the reader was afraid of being too melodramatic, but I think that in a story like this, a little drama is to be expected!

Reimagining is also present in one of the best YA books of 2018 (so far) Dread Nation by Justina Ireland. Written in the tradition of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which imagines what the classic love story of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy would have looked like if zombies were involved, this book imagines what would have happened had the dead risen during the Civil War. However this is a holy original story and utilizes an alternate timeline, very much like the book and Amazon series The Man in the High Castle, what would have happened had the Axis powers won World War II.
The story is told from the perspective of Jane, who is it a combat school studying to be a lady's attendant, a personal bodyguard for rich white women against the undead. As a woman of color, Jane was taken from her family as a teenager (which is the law) to train to fight the undead; while the North still won the war, the reconstruction never seemed to have taken hold in the South in this reality, so people of color (Native Americans included) are treated as second-class citizens...if not as slaves in practice (just not in name).

Fortunately for Jane (kind of....there's definite sarcasm in this, and in Jane's voice, which I love), she ends up at the best combat school for ladies, which should ensure that she receives a well-paying post should her family farm have fallen to the undead in her absence. And Jane is at the top of her class...in more ways than one. You see, her mother was the wife of a Southern Major, and so Jane is not only raised as part of a plantation family, but also as a "bastard" of some black man. (Which almost gets her killed many times.) While this means that she is treated better than much of the help on the farm--who are treated very well, given the standards of the day--she is not treated well by society. In fact, her mother hides the fact that Jane is her child from society and her husband, who was away at the time of her birth. Jane uses these terrible prejudices to her advantage throughout the story, being able to trick those who would stand in her way by feigning ignorance and illiteracy, and often this helps her during her trials.

I loved this story, which I don't want to spoil, which is part mystery, part action-adventure, part historical-fiction, and which is incredibly powerful today. I loved the inclusion of her enemy-turned friend Katherine, who could pass as white if people didn't know better, as a direct way to explore the ridiculousness of the prejudices that guide post-Civil war society. And this book isn't just about race--it's also, beneath the surface, very much about class, and how the rich make the rules (if they are white, of course). Behind the very engaging story of Jane's quest to help her friend find out what happened to his sister are the simmering tensions among the rich of Baltimore and their "help", the scientists and those who would abuse their innovations, and those who believe in equality vs. those who believe in "survival" (which seems to be a euphemism for racists, like the white power movement). And all of this is just the beginning!

There are so many twists and turns in this story that I hesitate to provide too much plot, but I loved that each time I thought I knew where the story would go next, I found a new surprise (that in retrospect completely made sense with prior information). The ending, which I won't give away, definitely leaves room for other books in the series, and from what I can see on Goodreads, there appear to be more books in the works! If you like The Walking Dead and/or historical fiction or following the #blacklivesmatter movement, you will love this book. (And if you don't like those things, you might still like following the adventures of this Marvel-esque superhero woman who kicks booty in so many ways!)
 
I have so many more books to share, some of which could fall under this heading, but I will save those for a special fantasy post :)
 
Happy Reading!

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Recommended Reading

Before I share my list of books I've read during the school year...

I thought I'd share some of my reading "wishlist" for this summer!

The New York Times put out this list of what appears to be nonfiction this past week, and I really want to read every book on this list.

NYT has many such lists, like this "Refreshing Reads" list that includes serious and funny books--again, many of which are nonfiction!

I'm also using the audio sync free teen audiobooks this summer. This pairs books, often a work for fiction and a work of non-fiction, and you can't beat the price! I've already started reading When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon, and the readers are fantastic, which is keeping me engaged in this romance, which anyone who knows me knows is my least favorite genre. (The spin of the arranged marriage element is keeping me hooked!)
For those who want to read more Young Adult fiction, this seems like an interesting list. It includes some works by tried and true authors that never disappoint their fans!

I also have a stack of books for the beach, which tends to wear down my kindle app, such as Manhattan Beach, which I'm 1/3 done with, and some professional reading about fostering a love of reading--and more!

I'll post soon to give my recommendations regarding the books I've read this year, but I hope this list inspires people to make their own "to be read" lists for the summer!

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

First Quarter Reading List

Some people have been asking me what I've read so far this year 

Especially as we approach holiday book season!

Unfortunately, given that much of my reading has been through the library app and $1-$2 book deals on the Amazon Kindle app, I can't say that I have a lot of "new" books to recommend, but I will share some of the older books that I've gotten around to with a brief rating/recommendation--in reverse order, starting with the latest books I've read.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
The story of Achilles and the Trojan War from Patroclus' point of view. I was definitely intrigued by the love story between the two--which created its own set of problems--and the way that "men" were shown with all their flaws, even as the gods who participated in the story were just as flawed. This book does not shy away from sex (nor is it particularly graphic), but I could see this being an issue for people who wanted to include this with a study of The Odyssey. However, for those who like Greek gods and heroes, this story is an interesting take on how the world might have looked to the Greeks (if, in fact, they did meet with Gods and Goddesses).

Uprooted by Naomi Novik
This was one of those books I got because both the e-book and audiobook were available at the same time (and the author of Wicked wrote a favorable blurb), so I could listen in the car (or while washing  the dishes) and then switch back to the e-book version to continue quietly.
Note: the audiobook was TERRIBLE! The reader sounded like she was a robot with an Eastern European accent, except when she read the parts of possessed people--and when I heard the animation in her voice, I kind of wanted everyone to be possessed from that point onward.
Anyway, I didn't realize this was a fantasy book at first, but much as I tend not to like fantasy fiction, I liked this story. It was kind of a coming of age tale/adventure, complete with all the heroic archetypes (mentor, elixir, slaying the beast, etc.). The best part of this was the nature of "the Wood," the everywhere and nowhere villain of the story.

We Should all be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
This was more of an essay than a book, but it was powerful. It is also a TED talk! (This is the same MacArthur genius grant winner who has the famous "The Danger of a Single Story" TED talk...I shall be looking for more of her writing!)

The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett by Chelsea Sedoti
I read this as part of the Big Library Read program (and because of this, the ebook and audiobook were available at the same time). It is a part mystery, young adult book, but it still worked for me (maybe because I teach young adults). The audiobook was AMAZING! The reader really embodied Hawthorn, the female protagonist, and I appreciated the voice she gave to the supporting characters. I also appreciated the author's use of symbolism and voice, and the way she didn't shy away from real issues faced by teenagers. I also liked that I didn't always like the main character, who was realistically selfish and somewhat understandably critical of everyone--who were, after all, contributing to her miserable state as an outcast.

Auschwitz: A Doctor's Eyewitness Account by Dr. Miklos Nyiszli
This book has been around for a long time (and it's pretty short), but I learned some new information about Dr. Mengele from this, as well as how the Sonderkommando worked. What was most interesting to me was the foreword of the book, which kind of criticizes the men in these units for NOT rebelling against the Nazis sooner. While it kind of offended me, as I read the story itself, I could see how hard the Nazis worked to keep people from rebelling, and how insidious the persecution of the Jews was, slowly stripping them of their humanity and life force until, as the doctor said, many welcomed death. A fascinating survivor account.

The Radium Girls by Kate Moore
The true story of the women who painted radium dials on watches during and after WWI. I was horrified to learn of the "lip point" technique they were encouraged to use, which basically had them eating radioactive paint--and then the systematic denial by the companies that they could be at fault for the health problems (to put it mildly) encountered by the women after the fact. I loved how the author committed to telling the story from the girls' points of view.
The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
This was the first of my ebook/audiobook experiments, as I found that I would want to keep reading as I shuttled the kids and myself to and from school. After reading (and loving) David and Goliath on audiobook and Outliers in paperback, I wanted something else by this author. This is an interesting look at how "trends" explode, and what makes something "tip" into--or out of--popularity.

David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell
This audiobook explored what makes "the underdog" such an obvious winner. If you want to think about how weakness can become strength and vice versa, its an interesting read. I especially enjoyed the chapter on class size, though I would argue that in some classes with special needs, 20+ students is too many!

Monday, September 25, 2017

How many books can you read with a new baby?

A lot.

When you have a Kindle app that allows you to use a black screen and white text in low light, you can turn awful nights up with the baby into secret read-a-thons.

Thank goodness for my local library's participation in Overdrive, which allows me to download (free, borrowed) e-books. Here is a short list of books I e-read since Fiona's birth, up through the late part of summer (hey, I often skipped around). I'm happy to discuss ANY of them beyond my crude rating:

The Martian by Andy Weir
Super-funny and suspenseful sci-fi adventure. I bet the movie is awesome.

Dead Wake by Erik Larson
I never knew it could take so long for a damn boat to sink. Some facts were cool, but otherwise my nonfavorite nonfiction.

American Jezebel by Eve LaPlante
Nonfiction: The trial transcripts were the best part. Anne Hutchinson kicked butt. The author less so.

Irena's Children by Tilar J. Mazzeo
Totally true story. Called the female Oskar Schindler, but she was much more of a boss. She didn't have money, and she withstood torture to protect her children and families from the Nazis. Then the Nazis tried to blow up Warsaw. Very cool, well-researched story.

One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus
Such a guilty pleasure novel. This is based on a real offer to make peace, during which a Native Chief offered to trade horses for 1000 white women (as wives) to help bring a new generation peacefully into the white man's world. What if some crazy women really did it? I bet it would go down like this. (Oh, and there's a sequel coming soon!!)

The Girl Who Came Home: A Novel of the Titanic by Hazel Ganor
Loved how the narratives came together. I could see a movie version of this someday. And who doesn't like Titanic stories?

The Lunching: The Epic Courtroom Battle that Brought Down the Klan by Laurence Leamer
I learned a lot about the Klan, and how hard it is to overcome racism in America.

The Bees by Laline Paull
This was sold to me as a dystopia...and it is, but it is LITERALLY about bees. I'd love a science teacher to weigh in on the science in the book (fictionalized, as the bees are sentient), but other than that, I was a little bugged out.

Last Train to Istanbul by Ayse Kulin
A holocaust novel with a unique twist, as a Turkish family deals with prejudice inside their family and country while trying to save Jews from Hitler's reach. (Rumors there is a movie...?)

Broken Angels by Gemma Liviero
A novel that weaves together the story of a Jewish woman, reluctant Nazi, and Polish child. Very cool.

Elsewhere by Richard Russo
The author's memoir focused on his mother, who you get the sense was both wonderful and not quite right....who'da thought a Pulitzer winner comes from such interesting people ;)

Kindred by Octavia Butler
Sci-fi time traveler meets Roots. How would a woman of the 1970s handle going back to slave-state Maryland to save her white slave-owning ancestor? This book offers no easy answers. Oh, and that mystery of how her arm gets stuck in the wall? SOOO cool, and it came with a critical essay at the end that made me want to reread the whole novel to appreciate it even more.
Freakonomics by Steven B. Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner
LOVED this book. You will never look at data the same way!

SuperFreakonomics by Steven B. Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner
LOVED this book. Where else will you find out how a street prostitute is like a mall Santa?

Think Like a Freak  by Steven B. Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner
 Can you tell I loved the series so much that I gobbled all three of these?


Happy reading!

EDIT: I completely forgot to include the hard copy books I managed to read!
A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father by Augusten Burroughs
Not as good as Running with Scissors, but this is an interesting story of growing up with a (likely sociopathic) distant father. As a teacher, I squirmed when I read about how his mother took him out of school to hide from his father on several occasions, and I worry about how many stories that might require similar intervention are likewise hidden behind seemingly free-spirited parents.
I also wondered at the relationship between Burroughs' father and mother. Granted, much of their origin story is second-hand and skewed through the eyes of Augusten, but it made me wonder how someone could be so deceived as to the nature of another. If you like watching Criminal Minds, you might find this story psychologically intriguing.
 
The Life We Bury by Allen Eskens
I'm not a big "mystery" reader--in the sense of a genre-specific book--but I really liked this story of a college kid who procrastinates until he goes to a nursing home out of desperation to find an interview subject--and finds more than he bargained for. The characters and conflicts felt real, and even the protagonist's quest to find out the truth felt authentic (until about 3/4 of the way through the book, by which point I didn't care). Joe Talbert is a protagonist you can't help but root for, especially with his troubled family life, and Carl Iverson is a fascinating character of focus, accused of a horrible murder and claiming he wants to tell "the truth"--which isn't a simple case of innocent or guilty-- before the end of his life.
And, unlike many mysteries/thrillers, this story wasn't super predictable (until the very end, but again, I didn't care by then). This was a great beach read, but also an inspiring read in general.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Hulu and Handmaids

Oh, how I loved...and fear

The summer book club decided on The Handmaid's Tale for its selection, which interested me because I had binge-watched the Emmy nominated series while I was home with the baby (and my older daughter was at preschool).

The premise is that fertility had declined such that babies are a precious commodity, as are the women who can still have them. In the midst of this, a religious totalitarianism has seized and is working on replacing the government of large segments of America with the government of Gilead, run by "commanders" (seemingly of aspects of policy). In the middle of the novel and the series, Offred, the main character, explains:
"It was after the catastrophe, when they shot the president and machine-gunned the Congress and the army declared a state of emergency. They blamed it on the Islamic fanatics, at the time."

Offred is a Handmaid, one of those women who is assumed to be able to have children, having a young daughter with her husband Luke when she was still June. Once June was seized by the authorities and sent to the Red Center, she loses her identity and is forced to become a baby-making vessel for a commander and his wife.

The name Offred is literally "of Fred," in that her only identity is to serve her master. What is purported to be a noble profession is then a type of slavery, but how the character (and other characters) react to this reality is at the core of the novel and the series. As the commander says in both: 
"Better never means better for everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some."

As with any book "made into a movie," I was very curious to see how the adaptation stayed true to and deviated from the novel. Often I read the book first and then I'm disappointed by the adaptation. For example, when I read Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth (which is long but sooo worth it), I could easily see how this epic would make a good series. Unfortunately, the miniseries skipped over important backstory and reduced several rich characters into unimpressive stereotypes.  Additionally, the architecture, which was central to the story, was glossed over. To quote 45, "SAD."

So, perhaps my viewing of the series prior to reading the novel was fortunate, in that I was able to judge the series on its own merits, which are numerous indeed. First, the acting from the central characters was fantastic. Secondly, the stream of consciousness style feels fresh but logical, at once authentic and well sequenced. My criticism is that it dragged a bit in the middle of the series (though the Luke episode was worth the wait) and the episodes grew so dark that they were tough to watch... and I mean that literally, as I had to adjust the screen resolution to make out what was going on in many scenes. However, the season finale was well done, leaving just enough of a cliffhanger to make me come back for season 2, while giving enough closure to not disappoint if that was the last episode. 

In case it hasn't been clear, I have been avoiding major plot points thus far as to avoid spoilers, and I will continue to do so to the best of my ability  (and warn if I can't). With that said, when I began to read the book, I was surprised that it had the same stream of consciousness style as the series: often  June/Offred would be in the Handmaids' present and then flashback to the Red Center or the times before.  As Variety reviewer said in her review of the series: 
Because the story of “The Handmaid’s Tale” is that women are not merely vessels —and even in the midst of a brutal regime, life demands to be lived. Offred remembers her old life. She used to be a book editor with a husband and daughter of her own. The story jumps between Offred’s life in Gilead and the times she smoked pot with her friend Moira (Samira Wiley) or lounged on the beach with her daughter Hannah (Jordana Blake) and husband Luke (O-T Fagbenle). 
On film, it was easy to distinguish these shifts in time, as the setting would change  (along with outfits); in the novel, these shifts took a bit of getting used to, and more than once I found myself having to go back and reread because I realized that there was a shift a little too late. While I appreciated the style (especially once I finished the book), I wondered if this would have been much more confusing for those who hasn't seen much of the plot unfold already.

On the other hand, because I had to pay closer attention, I was better able to appreciate the artistry of the writing, with images such as this description of those hooded men hanged for political "crimes" and left to rot for all to see: 
"The heads are the heads of snowmen, with the coal eyes and the carrot noses fallen out. The heads are melting." 
In images such as this, we have a window not only into Offred's world, but also her subconscious: what she lives everyday is unreal, cold, and requiring escape.

I also appreciated the changes the makers of the series had to make when it came to technology and style. Writing in the 1980s, Atwood wisely left her discussions about technology vague, and the computools that may have been a bit futuristic at the time of writing are easily imagined today. Cattle prods and guns have also not changed much; however, they makers of the series did update the technology to reflect our current capabilities, and especially in the flashback to the "before time." This avoids the dating that the book suffers from with the cassette tapes and legwarmer references and makes it feel more relevant. 

I found it interesting that the series made the commanders and wives younger, though this is less surprising in Hollywood. The effect is to create more gray areas for Offred, as she has to compete with the beautiful  (and not crippled) Serena Joy and struggle with the sex appeal of the commander (who is clearly identified as Fred Waterford in the series, as opposed to the nameless commanders of the novel). The pity June feels for the sad old people portrayed in the novel (though still powerful, cruel, and selfish) is diminished in the series, making them at once feel more dangerous but also more like her potential equals. 

I also liked the changes the series made to several characters and situations to facilitate the drama, though they did somewhat change the warnings embedded in the novel:

Luke was not only BLACK in this version (an interesting change, given that at the end the historical notes discuss a quest to preserve the white race), but he also got his own storyline and episode. Knowing what happens to him really enriches and complicates the story!

Moira was also black, showing the creators of the show injecting yet another level of rebellion into her character; although she is a lesbian in the book, the series really clarifies just how progressive and rebellious she is. I won't spoil what happens in the series, but let's just say, I'm glad we hear more from Moira in the series than the book!

Janine also gets a unique new story line in the series, and while she is a creature to be pitied in the book AND the series, she is able to earn back some agency in the series, and helps lead to the dramatic conclusion for Offred that is very similar to the novel, but also dramatically different in its messaging. One big change is the storyline of her baby; the series shifts the focus a bit in terms of the fertility problems...and that's all I can say without providing big spoilers.

One line that encapsulates both the series and book is that: "Humanity is so adaptable, my mother would say. Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations." Both the series and novel really make you think about how relatively easy it would be to fall into the traps of the world of Gilead. How hard would women really fight for their rights? Would power really be so easily wrenched from the masses? How gullible are people--and what lengths will they go to in preserving their own interests?

While many of the most important premises and poignant lines from the novel are maintained in the series, many details are, perhaps necessarily, left out. One that resonated with me was June's memory of an interview with a mistress of a Nazi official that she remembers setting on TV:
"She did not believe he was a monster. He was not a monster, to her. Probably he had some endearing trait: he whistled, offkey, in the shower, he had a yen for truffles, he called his dog Liebchen and made it sit up for little pieces of raw steak. How easy it is to invent a humanity, for anyone at all. What an available temptation. A big child, she would have said to herself. Her heart would have melted, she’d have smoothed the hair back from his forehead, kissed him on the ear, and not just to get something out of him either."

This allusion helps make it all too clear how people can and have excused and normalized abhorrence, but once faced with the truth, they must acknowledge their complicity. (In this case, the interview was followed by a screen that noted the woman killed herself following the interview...presumably having realized the truth about her actions.)

This is reflected in Offred's reflection on the insidious changes to her society, and how, as in the Nazi-driven Holocaust, the silence of the many allowed for crimes to be committed that would change the world:
"here were marches, of course, a lot of women and some men. But they were smaller than you might have thought. I guess people were scared. And when it was known that the police, or the army, or whoever they were, would open fire almost as soon as any of the marches even started, the marches stopped. A few things were blown up, post offices, subway stations. But you couldn’t even be sure who was doing it. It could have been the army, to justify the computer searches and the other ones, the door-to-doors. I didn’t go on any of the marches. Luke said it would be futile and I had to think about them, my family, him and her. I did think about my family. I started doing more housework, more baking. I tried not to cry at mealtimes. By this time I’d started to cry, without warning, and to sit beside the bedroom window, staring out. I didn’t know many of the neighbors, and when we met, outside on the street, we were careful to exchange nothing more than the ordinary greetings. Nobody wanted to be reported, for disloyalty."



In the context of America today, this book, and this series, feel eerily possible, and entirely too scary.