Bibliography & Annotations

Bach, Richard. (2002). The ferret chronicles: rescue ferrets at sea. New York: Scribner. 0-7432-2750-6.

Dove, Mourning. (1990). Coyote stories. Ill: Heister Dean Guie. Lincoln, Nebraska: Bison Book. 0-8032-8169-2.

Franco, Betsy, Ed. (2001). Things I have to tell you: poems and writing by teenage girls. Ill: Nina Nickles. Cambridge: Candlewick. 978-0763610357

Hurston, Zora Neale. (1937). Their eyes were watching God. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. 0-06-093141-8.

Janie Crawford, a young black woman in the 1930’s, sets off to find herself in a world that wants her to fade into the background. Along the way she learns about love, happiness, individuality, trust, and peace. Written in dialect, it can be slow to read, but the scene that gives the book its title is beautifully written.

Mason, Bobbie Ann. (1985). In country. New York: Harper & Row. 0-06-091350-9.

It is 1984, and 18-year-old Sam Hughes has never known her father because he died in the Vietnam War before she was born. Now she lives with her “crazy” uncle while her mom has moved away with her new husband. Sam attempts to discover what her father was like, and in the process what makes up who she is. The story is slow but interesting, and culminates with an emotional scene at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C.

Rosengren, John. (2003). Blades of glory: the true story of a young team bred to win. Chicago: Sourcebooks, Inc. 978-1402200465.

The 2000-2001 Bloomington Jefferson High School hockey team is expected to be the best. Author John Rosengren gives an honest portrayal of Coach Tom Saterdalen, Captain Tommy Gilbert, Goalie Timm Lorenz, and the rest of the team as they deal with high school pertinent issues like academics, drugs, girlfriends, parents, getting into college, and being a role model. The sometimes foul language of the players is not cut, giving the book an honest feel that allows the reader to feel as if they’re sitting with the team in the locker room.

Wasserman, Robin. (2008). Skinned. New York: Simon Pulse. 978-1-4169-7449-9.

Lia Kahn was popular, smart, rich, connected, and on the path to success from her high school. Until a car accident took her life. But in this futuristic society, that’s not the end. Lia’s brain has been downloaded into a new, mechanical body and she can continue to live her life, minus the eating, breathing, and sleeping. But she finds herself now an outcast of society, seen as inferior to other people. Themes of “racism,” acceptance, and personal responsibility create a story that teenagers will enjoy.

Review Podcast

Here is our review podcast (the sound kind of drops at the end, sorry):

Response to Persepolis

Like American Born Chinese, I liked this book more than I thought I would. And I feel like there was so much going on, I don’t even know where to start. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I was laughing on the first page, second panel, when we’re shown a “class picture” but the narrator isn’t in it so we can’t see her. I thought that was really funny.

The first very poignant moment of the book for me was when the narrator says, “Something escaped me…cadaver, cancer, death, murderer…laughter?” (32). She didn’t understand how her parents and grandmother could laugh about such things. It shows a couple of things about older people who have gone through times of such terrible trial for so long. The two most common reasons for such a response are that the adults have been around the terror for so long that they have just become used to it and so it doesn’t even really affect them much anymore, or that when such terrible things are happening people have to find something to laugh at or they would be crushed under the weight of the sadness of their country. It was really interesting how we were shown that the narrator showed us this childish confusion early on in the book, I really liked that.

Of course one of the most interesting parts of the book is the oppression of people and how it is dealt with. Everything from wearing the veil all the time to smuggling modern items to banning all sorts of items that are a part of our everyday life.

I also found it really interesting that there was almost a “my dad is bigger than your dad” attitude going on among the kids. They talk about their family members and parents regarding how long they were in prison or if they killed anyone or where they demonstrated or any number of things that a kid in the United States probably wouldn’t even think of. But as the kids get a little older, they seem to understand more what is going on in their country, which helps them identify with each other a bit more than they used to, creating new types of relationships. The relationships definitely change between the students who just fall into the rank and file and don’t know much of what’s going on and those who take an active role in politics and really do understand what is going on in their country.

One thing I was really surprised about was the mistrust of the media. In the United States, we have certain stations that perhaps slant things a certain way or they may say things that are inaccurate but not on purpose. It’s surprising to me that the media would intentionally say things that are untrue because of a certain agenda. Though I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that much because it has happened, and perhaps is happening, in our own government.

The ending was heart-wrenching, I thought. Sending off your child to live in another country because the situation in your homeland has gotten so bad that it would be better to divide your family than risk staying put is something that I can’t even fathom. And as a child, knowing that you may not ever see your parents again is something that no child should have to endure.

I would be very interested to get Persepolis 2 to see where the story goes from here, and I think that is one of the marks of a good book.

Response to American Born Chinese

I read this book before Persepolis, and I have to admit that going into this genre I did not think I would like it very much. I liked comic books growing up, but was never super into them, and this genre just didn’t seem like it was up my alley. I was wrong. I really enjoyed most of this book, and would absolutely recommend it to a student. The characters were interesting, the storylines compelling for the most part, and the visual aspect added a ton to the book.

I’ll start with the visual aspect, since that is what creates this genre. My favorite part was probably the face of the Monkey King, especially on the bottom of page 145. I laughed out loud at his loss for words, and there is no way that would have come across as well without the visual. The other one I liked was the “hmph” on page 149. I thought that was really funny, too. I also like the pictures because they add different layers to the text that would be hard, if not impossible, to do with just traditional text narrative. During the scenes with Chin-Kee, the constant “HA HA HA HA” underscoring the story is a really cool addition that would not have been possible any other way. Also, the “lighting bolts” that show Jin’s confidence just add that extra something that is so much more interesting than saying, “Jin felt a jolt of confidence.”

One of the big reasons I think this book works so well as it does is that the author uses the characters’ facial expressions beautifully. I already mentioned the Monkey King, but another perfect example is on the bottom of page 179 when Jin is asked not to see Amelia again. That picture of his dumbfounded face surrounded by nothing says more than any bit of text ever could. That was a beautifully portrayed emotion. Also, (okay, I’m rambling a bit, but I’ll move on soon) on page 72 the Monkey King breaks out of the box on the page, and I thought that was a really funny use of the conventions of the genre.

Okay, the character of the Chin-kee is, as the book says, “the ultimate negative Chinese stereotype” (inside flap). I thought it was hysterical, but I almost felt bad laughing at this character and his antics because of how absurdly inappropriate the character, jokes, and portrayal are. Of course, the author seems to be trying to make a point about stereotypes, judgementalism, and how people are treated, but I’m not sure the point comes across as well as it could. With how Chin-kee acts (making a ruckus by singing in school, peeing in a guy’s Coke, making inappropriate remarks to girls, etc.) is Danny expected to just let him do things like that without getting angry or embarrassed? I’m just not sure I completely understand how Chin-kee was supposed to serve as Danny’s conscious with how extreme Chin-kee’s actions were. I’m not sure anyone would be able to react much better than Danny did.

Speaking of Danny, I did not completely understand why or how the switch was made. I know it brought it back to the old herbalist lady and how she said, “It’s easy to become anything you wish…so long as you’re willing to forfeit your soul” (29). So did Jin forfeit his soul or scruples or whatever in exchange for becoming Danny and being popular? Did the old lady do something to change him or did he just believe or want it so much that it actually happened? When that change happened, I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes. I just found it really unbelievable, and to that point I was loving the book. The last 30 pages had me wrinkling my brow and wondering why it had to go that way.

Response to Luna

This book presented some problems for me. I’m not even really sure how to go about responding to it, but I’ll give it the ol’ college try.
Okay, let’s start with the fact that I really like how the book is organized and written. The characters were believable, though not likable (we’ll get to that), the situations felt real to high school, and the insertion of the flashback scenes I thought added a lot to the narrative and were way better than if the narrator had just described those scenes to us.
Speaking of the narrator, I thought it was a great decision to have the narrator be Liam’s sister. It makes it so much more interesting to read because we don’t just see Liam and what he is going through, but we see how others are affected and how Liam’s life does not just center on himself, but has a huge impact on the lives of others, particularly Regan. She was a fascinating character, and the way her relationship developed with Chris probably would strike a chord with a lot of high schoolers. The awkwardness, the wonder, the “I don’t have time for this right now,” the jealousy, all of it is very “high schooly” and students would identify with that.
Okay, I guess I have to get to the elephant in the room. Or…on the page. Whatever. I am not okay with the topic of this book. I don’t want to make anyone angry, but my belief system does not allow for the GLBT philosophy to be okay. I believe saying it is okay for someone to be transgender implies that God made a mistake when he created them, and I don’t believe in a God who can make mistakes. I really don’t believe it’s appropriate to get into all that in depth in my book response, so I’ll try to stick with this book. When I saw what the book was about, I immediately thought, “I don’t want to read this book” and I actually considered asking if I could read a different one. But I thought it was important to have the same book experience that my classmates are having, so I read it. I wonder what I would do if a student asked me, “Do you know any good books about transgender teens?” Would I recommend this book knowing that it is a good book, but goes against what I believe in? Would I lie and just say no? Would I hand it over without a word? I really don’t know.
Interestingly, the character I had the biggest problem with in this book was not Liam. He seemed like an honest, caring, hard-working person. Granted, he maybe took advantage of Regan a little bit, and he made some really poor decisions (like dressing up during the babysitting gig), but on the whole he seemed like a likeable guy. No, the characters I had the biggest problem with were Liam’s parents. His mom didn’t take care of her family, and the outburst of “I’ve had it with you. I’ve had it with you and these kids and my life. It isn’t enough” (137) is extremely selfish. But it all starts with Liam’s dad. He obviously did not know how to make his wife feel loved, leading to the aforementioned scene. And his insistence on pushing Liam into sports when Liam clearly did not want to sends a terrible message. But of course it culminated with the lines “You’re sick” and “If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back” (222-223) I don’t care if what someone does is against your beliefs, you just don’t treat people that way. I believe the culture of the home and family start with the husband/father, and this guy failed miserably.

Response to The Life and Death of Adolf Hitler

I found this book enthralling. I didn’t know much about Hitler before his rise to power, and to see his whole background is very interesting. Of course, the first thing almost anyone thinks about Hitler is, “How can someone follow a person like that?” This book answers the question beautifully. With the political climate at the time, the results of the First World War, the state of Germany, and so many other factors, it really was the perfect storm for Hitler to rise to power.
One of the most interesting aspects of the story I thought was his young adult years spent in Vienna and trying to make it as an artist. Imagine, if he had just gotten into art school, none of this would have ever happened. To hear how he struggled, how he hid his trials from friends and family, and how he was really was just a lost young man adds depth to a person normally viewed as simply a monster who hated for no reason.
Speaking of why he hated, I really liked that the book does not try to offer a definitive explanation for Hitler’s hatred of the Jews. It is simply unfathomable to think that someone could hate another person that much simply because of their religion, race, gender, size, or any other aspect of character that should have no bearing on how people are treated. And while the book does offer some possibilities, it does not try to give an outright explanation, knowing that it is impossible to do so.
After the question of hate comes the question of love. Is it possible to love someone so much that you will poison yourself, have your body burned, and even kill your own children because that someone will no longer be the leader of your country? The persons of Eva Braun and the Goebbels are arguably just as fascinating as Hitler himself. Who voluntarily goes to their grave over this? At no point did Eva Braun think to herself, “You know, we’re not even married, and this war really isn’t going that well. Maybe Hitler isn’t the best guy to be connected to right now”? And when the story is told of Magda Goebbels killing her own children with poison and saying, “A world without Hitler and National Socialism is not worth living in” (214) I could barely contain my rage. Really? A world without Hitler is not worth living in? He was one guy! He orchestrated the death of millions of people! And he’s the one guy that makes the world worth living in?! I feel bad enough when I accidentally bonk my son’s head with the car door, and she poisoned her kids on purpose! It just really shows the length to which these people were brainwashed.
Interestingly, I believe Hitler could be cast as a sort of tragic hero to the people who followed him and knew exactly how to get people to do what he wanted and how to get them to think a certain way. He was loved by so many for so long, but his pride became his tragic flaw. He refused to believe there was anything he couldn’t do, and started making decisions that were irrational out of pride. Everyone knew the move into Russia was a poor decision, but he went ahead with it and it basically cost him the war. He ordered troops not to surrender when that was really the only course of action. He thought he knew the military strategies of other countries, but didn’t. His downfall came because of his own pride, and had he not believed in himself so much, he probably would have won.

Response to The Circuit

I really enjoyed this book, even with how sad much of it is. I feel like even through the sadness, there is a ray of hope that constantly shines through. Maybe it’s because the father really does believe there is a better life that they are working toward, or maybe it’s because there are characters throughout the book with whom we sympathize, but mainly I think it’s because the main character does not seem to hold any animosity toward the life he lives. There are moments of sadness and misery, of course, but it seems that few of them actually have to do with their lot in life. The sadness comes when the bird dies or when he tries to help pick cotton but ends up destroying it or the fact that he is nervous about reciting the Declaration of Independence (more on that later). But never, to my recollection, does he say things like, “I wish we weren’t so poor” or “Why did God give us this crappy life?” There is no “woe is me” in regard to the life they lead, and that makes the reader sympathize with their plight much more easily.
The beginning of the book was a little hard to read for me because the family has grand ideas of moving to California for a better life, but right away we know what likely awaits them, and we know that it is no better. I think the father knows it immediately, and maybe even knew it before, when they arrive and are told they cannot start work for two weeks and they will all stay in a little tent. We wonder right away if they would have been better off just staying in Mexico. But also in the first chapter we see the unbridled optimism that the boys have. When the train conductor drops a bag of food for them, Roberto exclaims, “See, it does come from California!” (7). Even with the life they now lead, the boys are holding onto the idea that there is a California out there somewhere that is a land flowing with milk and honey. They refuse to believe that this is the end of their journey.
Two specific spots in the story really stuck with me. The first is the game of kick the can in the chapter “Learning the Game” when Panchito refuses to play unless Manuelito is also allowed to play. I love that this story is woven into the story of Gabriel, who refuses to do the work of an animal and is fired and deported. The injustice of Gabriel’s story sits in stark contrast to what Panchito decides he must accomplish. It is one small moment, in one small field, with a few young children, but in that moment, justice was served and discrimination was destroyed because one small boy took a stand against something that he knew was not right. World changes begin with moments like that.
The second part that struck me was the ending. I loved the buildup of trying to learn the Declaration of Independence to recite it in front of the teacher, especially the repetition of the famous words of equal creation. Before the recitation comes, however, Panchito is taken away by what I assume is the INS. The fact that the teacher is making the students memorize these words and then turns in Panchito is, for me, at the same time very aggravating but kind of understandable. We want Panchito to succeed, and we want to believe that everyone has the right to freedom and happiness, but at the same time he is here illegally and the laws of the country must be upheld or there would be total chaos. So it creates a moral dilemma of helping the child but submitting to authority. Tough.

Response to Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World

Admittedly, I didn’t know hardly anything about Shackleton or his trip to Antarctica before reading this book. At first, I thought it was going to be some boring story about a crew who had to be rescued, but as I got into the book I found it enthralling. What a remarkable story of survival, and not just against the elements, but against emotion, despair, and the greatest of odds.
On page one, the author tells the reader about Antarctica and how dangerous it is, but at the end of the page she tells us that all of the men survived. I thought this was strange (why would she give away the ending?), but as I read I realized it was actually quite useful. Almost Shakespearian in a way. For as Shakespeare often tells his audience what will happen at the end of the play because he is not interested in the ending, but the story, so does Armstrong tell us the ending of the story because it is not the simple fact that they survived that is the interesting part of the story, but how it happened. I even doubted as I read that everyone was going to survive, even though I knew it to be true. There would be instances in the story when I would think, “Surely, somebody has to die here” or “I don’t think that guy is going to make it.” But I knew they would, and they did. Also, telling the reader that everyone will survive actually makes the book easier to read in a way. I have had a very hard time reading other stories like this, Into Thin Air for example, because of the maps and stories that say things like “Here is where this person was seen for the last time.” I don’t like thinking about stuff like that. I like when everyone comes out okay. So this book allows for the readers who want to see everyone succeed, and they know the whole time that they will.
Shackleton is a fascinating person. The leadership qualities he possessed are hard to find in many people. As I was reading about him, I couldn’t help but draw a comparison between him and Herb Brooks, coach of the 1980 Olympic hockey team. Both of them knew exactly how to get the best out of the men they commanded, and both possessed a fervent desire to do something that had been deemed nearly impossible. Granted, the two goals were very different, but they both prepared extremely well, a key component to their success. One of the keys to why Shackleton was such a great leader is summed up by Cheetham when he told a group women, “He don’t run you into any danger if he can help it; but, by gum! if there’s danger, he goes first” (9). It’s much easier to follow someone if they are brave and trustworthy, and the trust that the men had in Shackleton is evidenced by the fact that so many returned with him to Antarctica for another try. I’m not sure you could have paid me enough to go back there after that.
Finally, I thought one of the most underrated parts of the story was what happened to the Aurora, the boat supposed to pick up Shackleton and the team trekking across the continent. I figured they would have just sat there for a while and finally left, assuming everyone was dead. Not until the end of the book does the author tell us that the Aurora also got caught in ice, sunk, and everyone died. Had Shackleton and his men made the trek, they would have arrived to no ship, and probably would have died. The fact that they got caught in the ice and had to turn back saved everyone’s life. I can’t imagine what the crew was thinking when they found out, but I’m sure they felt very lucky.

Response to Things Not Seen

I think this is a book that can bring about any number of responses on the part of the reader. I can see people loving this book and I can see people hating it, and everything in between. For me, it was very up and down. I started off liking it okay, then I didn’t like it, then I really did, then something would happen I thought was stupid, then I would love how it got resolved, and over and over until I was done. It was a very up-and-down experience.
My first thought when I saw what the book was about was, “What is this, a new version of ‘The Metamorphosis’?” and I was not really looking forward to that. Luckily, it didn’t turn out that way. After I started reading about Bobby’s first morning as being invisible, there were multiple things that I was questioning. First was Bobby’s reaction. He’s fifteen, he’s a boy, and I’m supposed to believe that the first thing to pop into his head wasn’t, “How can I use this to my advantage?” Just about every fifteen-year-old boy I know would absolutely have gone to the dressing rooms in a women’s store or started playing tricks on all the people he doesn’t like, and all kinds of stuff like that. So I was skeptical about that, but then Bobby addresses it when he says that’s exactly what his friends would tell him to do. He goes on to say, “…if that’s what some kid is thinking, that’s because it’s not happening to him…This isn’t like that. This is my life” (67). I had two reactions to this. First, I was really glad the author addressed it, and it totally made sense the way Bobby said it. I had never thought of it like that. Like it’s not some game, it’s a completely life-changing experience. Still, my second reaction was that I could see a kid coming to that realization…after a few days. I still think the immediate reaction would be to wreak some havoc and steal some money or something, and after the luster has worn off then maybe we’d see the reaction that Bobby has.
The topic of invisibility is really difficult to explain, because I think there are too many problems that make it unbelievable. I tried to suspend disbelief, and I was actually really glad that there was a real explanation as to why it happened, not just, “He woke up and he was invisible, deal with it.” This is where I was able to suspend disbelief because I thought the whole electric blanket/solar wind thing was pretty far-fetched, but I was okay with it. I was even able to buy into it when he first saw his shadow and they realize that there is just something up with his molecular structure that doesn’t allow light to refract off of him properly, so the eye doesn’t pick him up. I actually thought that was really interesting and clever. But I could not buy into the fact that Bobby could “hide” things in his hands or armpits. That doesn’t make any sense. If you can’t see the item, then there has to be something blocking it. And hiding something in your armpit is not at all different than holding your hand in front of it. If nobody can see the thing in his hand, then his hand is covering it. Logically, then, you can’t see something his body is blocking, in which case he is not invisible! I couldn’t get over that.
Finally, the ending of the book was really anticlimactic and disappointing. If I had realized that sleeping under an electric blanket made me invisible, you know the first thing I do? Go sleep under the blanket again! I understand that you don’t know what’s going to happen, but I would be willing to try anything. I can’t believe it took that long to come up. I was a bit disappointed in that part of the ending, but was intrigued by Sheila, who didn’t want to go back to normal. When she says, “I don’t want to start worrying about my weight and my hair and all that junk again” (238) I think that’s an outstanding little commentary by the author on the vanity of people. Perhaps it would be better if everyone was invisible, because then we wouldn’t even have to worry about how people look.

Response to The House of the Scorpion

This book is a very interesting look at a possible future of North America and also deals with intriguing issues of cloning, power, and prejudice. On the whole, I enjoyed this book, and I definitely think that certain students who are into this genre would really like the book.
In the first chapter, we are shown that cloning is going on and that the “Matteo Alacran” is always left intact, not given the shot that would blunt its intelligence. I found this fascinating. Whenever I have heard about cloning or read about it in the newspaper or something, I just thought that there was a clone and they grew up as a clone and that was that. I never considered the possibility that a clone would deliberately be given blunted intelligence. It seems so cruel and inhumane. Though, I suppose it has to be considered what the point of the clone is. For many, I imagine, it has to do with medical treatment and getting new organs and things like that, as it does in this book. So it does make a certain amount of sense to make the clone unaware of their existence if their sole purpose is to be cut up someday. Still, it’s not any easier to think about.
The power that is shown in the book is amazing to me. El Patron holds absolute power over just about everything, but the most shocking is the power to take a person’s life away, but not kill them, make them an eejit. This is incomprehensible to me. That a person actually has the ability to take another person and implant something in their brain that really makes them no better than a robot is horrific. Although, the more I thought about it, the less surprised I was at the act itself as the fact that it was allowed to go on. Surely other countries knew this was going on, so did they simply turn a blind eye because it was in their best interest? Did nobody care about these people? Were they being bribed? If this is the type of society we’re moving towards, I hope I’m dead before it happens.
The way that the clones were treated was very surprising to me. Immediately upon being discovered, Matt is characterized by other people as dirty and inhuman. I guess I thought there would be a little more understanding, since it’s not his fault he’s a clone. Though I do think it’s a very interesting portrayal of prejudice in general. Americans had the same reactions to slaves long ago, and even the holocaust or apartheid is still carrying out the idea that one person is better than another person for no real reason. Of course it all stems from insecurity, and I thought the scene when Tam Lin explains to Matt that clones are really no different than anyone else, that they are fully human, was very powerful. It was like Tam Lin was speaking to everyone who has ever held such ideas about another person.
Though I enjoyed this book and think it does a lot of great things, I do have to make one critical comment, and that is that I thought the movement of the book was a little slow, especially in the explanation of how the world got to where it is. I actually got to a point where I was bored with the situation of the world and not knowing how it came about. When it finally did come up in the book Matt finds, it made everything that happened that much more interesting. Similarly, when Matt escapes and becomes a Lost Boy, I thought that whole process was a little slow with some unnecessary filler. It lost some excitement and tension, and had it been cut down a little, that tension would have remained.

Response to Skellig

I’m going to tell you the truth: I did not like this book at all. Oddly, though, I did not like it because I wanted it to be longer. I just didn’t feel like much of anything happened, and the book is not even 200 pages. Turn this book into about 500 pages and then you might have something. As it is, I had so many questions I wanted the book to explain and it didn’t explain any of them. I understand I may be in the minority here, as the book did win the Printz award and seems to be fairly well regarded in young adult literature circles, but I can’t go against my personal reaction. There was so much I wanted to know, the first being, of course, what is Skellig? Is he a man? A carryover of a race long gone or a futuristic man that we haven’t seen yet? Is he an angel? Is he part man, part bird? Is he none of these things and he is just simply some other type of being that nobody knows about? I had no idea. And by the time the book was over, I still had not the faintest idea of what he was. I think some people would probably say, “That’s part of the beauty, that we don’t know what he is, he’s just a magical creature, etc.” but I really don’t see that here because the story centers on Skellig and who he is. What type of creature he is, I think, is extremely important to the other events in the story, and without knowing what he is the other events sort of fall apart.
Certain events of the book, which I found very predictable, had everything to do with Skellig and who or what he is, yet we never find out. When the owl calling started, I knew that would become a connection Skellig had, but why? What about him makes him connected to owls? Why not a different bird? Maybe I would know if I knew what Skellig was supposed to be, but I don’t. The visit that Skellig pays to the hospital to make the baby healthy was also very predictable in my mind, but once again, what happens there has everything to do with who or what Skellig is. If he is an angel, there is some sort of spiritual power or divine intervention going on. If he is a holdover from an ancient type of human, there is some sort of power that has left our current race of humans, and why did it leave? If he is an advanced type of being, there is some sort of power that perhaps humans can gain, and if so then how can we gain it and where is it coming from? If he is something that’s not even connected to humans then I don’t know what’s going on. And while some may like the fact that the reader doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, I did not.
So I suppose the charge, then, with a book you don’t like, is to attempt to figure out why the author made the decisions they did. I don’t think the author sucks. clearly, Almond is a good author, he’s written a lot of highly-acclaimed books, so that’s not it. One professor I had sophomore year of college, Quadry Ismail (not the former Viking) would say, “It doesn’t matter at all what the author is trying to do, the only thing that matters is your response to the text.” I’m not sure I agree with that reasoning, so as I read I did try to put aside my dislike for the book and attempt to figure out what the author was trying to do. I think Almond was attempting to create a magical situation and that the mystery of who or what Skellig is adds to the mystery and wonder of the story. Perhaps Almond wanted to create a character that was something different to each reader, or maybe he wanted a universal message of hope and love and he was afraid that nailing down too much in the story would cause that message to become too confined and fewer readers would connect to the story.
One thing I didn’t like that probably was not Almond’s fault was the fact that Skellig doesn’t tell his name until page 87. The reason this bothered me was because Skellig is obviously the guy in the garage, why wait until page 87 to bring that up? However, the part that is probably not Almond’s fault is that the inside flap tells us that the guy is Skellig. I very much doubt Almond wrote that inside flap, and without it perhaps there would have been more mystique around the word “skellig,” but there wasn’t and so it just felt strange that the name didn’t come up in the book until halfway through.

Response to Troy

I enjoyed this book, slow-moving though it could be at times, for many of the same reasons I enjoyed the books in historical fiction. It seemed very realistic and true to the history of the time. Well, as true to the history as a story about a mythical war can be. But even so, there seemed to be a lot of truth in the book as far as how people lived, and I appreciated that aspect of it.
I’m going to go in a direction that I don’t think I have gone in to this point in my responses, and that is to talk about how I think adolescents will respond to this book, which I think is a little more complicated with this book than some of the others we’ve read. First, I thought boys would really enjoy this book because of the war aspect (of course this is a huge stereotype, but sometimes we have to speak generally). But then I got into it a little bit and realized all of the love triangles and cupid’s arrows and everything would probably appeal to girls more. Also, I think the inclusion of all the gods and goddesses would appeal to girls as well. This is, of course, based on my limited experience with high school students. As I think about my own students, I can pick out students that I think would enjoy this book, and there are both girls and boys who I know would like this book.
As for the book itself, I liked the setting of Troy before the war comes to an end. Of course, a lot of people know how the war ended so the suspense is gone as far as that goes, but to watch it play out on the side of the Trojans is really interesting. Even though many readers know what’s going to happen, that’s not really the point of the story. It’s not a story about how the war was won and lost, it’s a story about people and relationships, so the fact that many readers know how the war turns out doesn’t much matter because we don’t know how the stories of these individuals will turn out.
One thing I liked about the book was that it seemed sort of like a play. For one thing, there is the dramatic irony of the reader knowing how the war goes and the characters in the book not knowing, and there is also the fact that each chapter is set like a “scene” in a specific location. That especially helps the reader picture the events and people in the book, which I think invokes thoughts of John Steinbeck with the detail and the imagery.
One thing I did not understand about the book was how nobody would ever remember when they spoke to a god or goddess, at least if they knew it was a god. There were times when Ares would show himself, but someone like Alastor didn’t know it was Ares, so he would remember and see him in various places. But that didn’t even happen every time the person didn’t know it was a god. It would sometimes still end in forgetting about the encounter. I don’t understand that. What’s the point of the gods showing themselves if the person they are speaking to doesn’t remember speaking to the gods and the conversation is often forgotten as well? The only thing I could think of is that the author was trying to create a sort of “other worldly” type of feel but construct an idea that perhaps this still happens. Perhaps there are other-worldly beings that interfere with our lives and we just don’t remember. I don’t think this is a good explanation, but it’s all I came up with.

Response to The Book Thief

Let’s start by being completely honest. I got the reading list for this class in July and immediately ordered most of the books online. When I got them, I saw The Book Thief and thought, “Wow, this is a large book. I’m going to start with this one to get it out of the way.” So, that was three months ago. Fear not, I remember a lot of it, and I definitely remember the things I did like and the things I didn’t like.
There were a lot of things I liked about this book. On the surface, it really is an enjoyable story to read with lots of interesting characters and events. But there’s so much more to it. Some of the “periphery” things the author used I had never seen before, like the introductions to each part featuring each section. It’s simply telling the reader what’s coming up, but it also piques interest in what those things might be. Also, the little inserted statements throughout the book were interesting. At first I was afraid they would become distracting, but they didn’t, they really added to what was going on. And of course, they come from the narrator, not from the subject of the story, which adds another dimension to what is going on. In fact, let’s talk about the narrator.
When I realized what was going on with the narrator, on about page two, I literally rolled my eyes. I thought this was another author trying to be clever with the death narrator and as I have borne witness to before I don’t like it when authors try to be clever with no good reason. I’m judgmental like that. But then I got to more and more of the little inserted statements coming from the narrator, and I realized that those are not possible without the narrator being not just some omniscient third person narrator but an actual character who can see things and react to things. And I really enjoyed those little statements and what they added to the book. Soon after starting the book I had to ask myself, “Wait, do I actually like the death narrator?” How disarming. Then, when I was finished, I got to the author’s interview in the back of the book where they ask about the narrator, and his explanation made total sense. He tried different things, they didn’t work, and not even the death narrator was working at first but he figured it out later.
Okay, I’ll move on. As this is historical fiction, I really liked how accurately the book portrayed everything from that era. I don’t know any more than the average person about Nazi Germany, and so I really appreciated the subtle details that made the story and the historical era a lot more personal. Things like the Hitler Youth or Hans’s wrestling on whether to join the Nazi party, or even the simple telling of how people tried to get work or had to cut back on Rosa’s services. Those types of historical details showed a true humanity in the midst of the madness and showed a beautiful picture of how Germany was not just a bunch of people yelling, “Heil, Hitler,” but there was compassion, hope, and love.
Okay, now allow me to talk about something that I both liked and disliked at the same time, and that is the “story arc” of the book. As I was reading, I just didn’t feel like the book was driving towards anything, you know? I really didn’t feel like there was a big climax, just a lot of little things happening throughout the book. Of course, the bombing is the big deal, but even with that I didn’t feel like the rest of the book was driving towards it, I just felt like it was another event that happened, albeit “bigger” than the others. I liked this aspect of the book because that’s really how life is. Life doesn’t drive toward one big event and then everything is resolved and we all sit down and have pie. Life is simply events strung together to make us the person we are, which is exactly what happened to Liesel. So I really liked that. On the other hand…it’s a book. Books traditionally drive toward a climax and when I got to the end I felt like I hadn’t really gotten anywhere. I had enjoyed the story, but I didn’t feel like I had reached an end point. So, to that end, I guess I shouldn’t say I disliked it, but it was different than what I was expecting, and almost a little unsatisfying.

Response to A Northern Light

Hello, my name is Jerrod…and I loved this book. They say admitting it is the first step. It is beautifully written, lots of mystery surrounding the characters and plot unfolded at the perfect time, believable scenes and circumstances, and just “sick” as the kids say these days. I actually loved this book so much that I’m having trouble figuring out what I want to write about.
Let’s start with the double plotline. This definitely could have been another instance of an author trying to be clever, but it was magnificently worked and I was instantly drawn in. When I started, I thought it was just going to be a flashback story about how they got to the Glenmore, but then they were back at the Glenmore, and then back at home but she wasn’t going to the Glenmore, and I was so confused and loving every second of it. I found myself thinking things like, “Wait, so she’s not going? Oh, I see, this is how she’s going to get to go. Wait, that didn’t work. What? How is this going to happen!? EXPLAIN IT TO ME!!!” I was enraptured in the story and just before I would get to the point of frustration the author would clue me in to something and I would love it and would want to keep reading.
Then, at one point later in the book, I thought that, and I don’t know if the author intended this or not, that the plotlines had converged into one and I was simply reading a straight narrative from that point on. Then, right near the end, I realized I had still been reading the double plotline all along, but I wasn’t aware of it. I was blown away.
The historical accuracy of the book was really outstanding, especially after seeing what lengths she went to to study the time period and how people lived and worked in that part of the country. This type of story feels truly “historical.” Even something like The Book Thief, which is obviously also historical, feels kind of modern because it seems relatively close to the world we live in today. A Northern Light is in a totally different place with how they live and work and just how the world runs.
The addition of the true story of the man and woman lost at sea is masterfully woven into the text. I had no idea it was a real event until I read the author’s note at the end, and it made the story so much more meaningful and made it seem even more well-crafted than I had thought. And so I have to wonder: Why wasn’t the author’s note positioned at the beginning of the book rather than at the end? It definitely has a “concluding” type of feel, and the author seems to be assuming that the reader has just finished the story, so it can’t be moved as is, and while both positions, I believe, have their advantages, I would just be curious to know why this particular decision was made.
I guess the simple way that I would describe this book is honest. I didn’t feel like any of the characters or situations were contrived at all. They felt very real and there was no “fluff” in the text at all, just simple, honest narrative and dialogue. The epitome comes when Minnie is giving birth. Mattie herself says, “I have read so many books, and not one of them tells the truth about babies…There’s no blood, no sweat, no pain, no fear, no heat, no stink. Writers are damned liars. Every single one of them” (93). Well, Jennifer Donnelly is not a liar. From the way Mattie feels when she looks at Royal to the way the teachers and students interact to the reaction Mattie’s dad has to just about everything, it didn’t feel created, it just felt honest.

Response to The People Could Fly

I had never read much of anything like this before, so I found it immediately interesting and engaging. As a white boy that grew up in white suburbia, I don’t really have anything like this in my family’s history, or even in my culture’s history for that matter. In fact, I don’t even really feel like I have a “culture” per se. But, actually, as I write this, I think of one piece of folklore that is a part of this land, and that’s the story of Paul Bunyan and how he created Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes with his footsteps. How about that? I honestly just thought of that right now. But I still don’t feel like I have a culture that is a community of people like the slaves or the Native Americans or any number of immigrant people groups. And that’s what I think is really cool about stories like this. They bring a group of people together and give them a common experience and understanding of the world around them. Though the details may be a little different, the stories are very much the same no matter which group of slaves is telling the story.
Of course one of the first things I noticed was the dialect of the stories. I fancy myself a pretty quick reader most of the time, but when I get something like this I have to slow down and focus and make sure that I’m completely understanding what I’m reading. I like that a lot, because it forces me to block out everything else. Usually I can read a book while watching a game on TV and be totally fine, but not with something like this. I had to hole up in my bedroom with no music or anything and slowly read the words. I think this adds a lot to the stories because it makes them seem more authentic. They wouldn’t have the same effect if they were written in modern American English. It would still have the same message and the same lesson, but it wouldn’t feel connected to the slave culture like it does now. It would just feel like any other story that tries to teach a lesson, and so much of the power of these stories is connected to the fact that they are about the slave culture.
The last section of the book, “Carrying the Running-Aways and other Slave Tales of Freedom,” had a similar effect for me as the dialect did because it tell stories from a perspective that few other cultures know. Through the first sections of the book, there were stories that were meant to explain natural phenomena or teach children to act a certain way, and those types of stories come up in a variety of cultures. But the stories of freedom and slavery are so specific to the African-American culture that it really is the essence of the book.
The two stories I found most interesting in that last section were “How Nehemiah Got His Freedom” and “The Talking Cooter,” mainly because they seemed so implausible. For a slave owner to basically say, “Well, I did say I’d let you free if that happened, so you can go free” seems pretty unlikely. And I think that says a lot about how the slaves wished and hoped for freedom, enough to invent stories like this that give them a little glimmer of hope that if they’re smart enough or clever enough they will find their freedom. This implausibility is different in “The People Could Fly” because that is simply a fantasy story while the others seem realistic. Still, the title story again shows how the slaves would cling to these stories as a type of hope.
Finally, I loved how in the freedom tales the slaves seemed genuinely happy and excited that other slaves gained freedom. There didn’t seem to be any hint of “Why did Nehemiah get to go free and not me?” or “How come those people could fly and I can’t?” It really did seem like they were excited that some people got out and if those people can get out, maybe someday the other slaves could gain their freedom as well.

Book Week Makeup

Since I won't be able to attend book week, I decided to pick up a topic I'm almost positive won't be studied in class, but that I'm very interested in: Christian Fiction.

Fiction has been pretty rare in Christian writing circles over the years, and I think that's because it's very hard to write. It's hard to be real about emotions, struggles, and the saving grace of Jesus without sounding "preachy" or "pious." Non-fiction is huge because people can just tell their stories or talk about what God has done in their lives or how great a marriage based on Jesus can be, or a host of other topics, but fiction doesn't get a lot of play.

The best Christian fiction books seem to be those that don't directly call themselves Christian books. Things like Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov" (my favorite book ever) or Lewis's "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" are amazing books with Christian themes or just outright allegories of Jesus, but they don't make a point of telling the reader that. But, I have to wonder, is the book sharing Jesus if the reader doesn't know that's what the book is talking about?

I have more to say, but I'll fast-forward to Christian fiction for teenagers. I searched online to find some examples of books I could check out and read the descriptors of each one. They all sounded kind of, well, lame. The stories didn't sound terribly interesting, and the characters seemed fake. The situations they found themselves in were no better, hardly relatable to most people.

So I picked up "Left Behind: The Kids" from our church library and read it in about 90 minutes. It is of course based on the wildly popular "Left Behind" series, and I really tried not let my knowledge of the authors' incorrect doctrine get in the way of what I would read. While I appreciate the message the book is trying to spread, the writing is not great. It uses very stereotypical characters, both Christian and non-Christian, to make its points, and it is riddled with cliches, again about Christians and non-Christians alike. Now, a junior high student may not see it that way because they haven't read a lot or know what stereotypes or cliches are prevalent because they have little experience. To that end, the book would be interesting for them.

I think that's the trap a lot of Christian fiction falls into. I think it's kind of hard to write realistic stories with interesting characters when you have a motive for your writing other than "write a good book." It often becomes forced and the message has to get in at the expense of the story or the characters. And I think teenagers are smart enough to see what's going on there.

Obviously I have little experience with this topic, which is why I picked it to study, so I hope to keep reading and finding good books with Christian themes so I have something to point my kids to when they're old enough.

Response to Joyful Noise

I thought this was a very interesting book. I didn’t think much of the picture of the butterfly on the cover, it seemed like a fairly normal type of drawing to put on a cover, but then I started reading and thought, “Oh, all these poems are about…bugs. Really?” I paged through the book and discovered that, yes, all of these poems were, in fact, about bugs. “Well,” I thought, “I suppose there are worse things to read poems about.” So I settled in and started reading about bugs. Fifteen minutes later, as I finished the book, I was surprisingly satisfied. And I think that has to do with my expectations as a reader. When I saw the whole book was just poems about bugs, my expectations fell off a cliff. I wasn’t expecting anything very intellectual or deep, and so I just enjoyed the poems for what they were, and I really did enjoy them. I think it’s interesting how our expectations as readers can shape our reactions to text, most of the time without realizing it. When I was younger my aunt sent me The Indian in the Cupboard. Based on the picture on the front, I thought it looked boring, so I didn’t read it until over a year later. I quite literally judged the book by its cover. When I did finally read it, I was so amazed that it wasn’t boring that I thought it was the greatest book ever written. After a few years, I realized it was very good but not quite as good as I had originally thought, but the fact that I was expecting nothing made it seem amazing. Okay, anyway, back to Joyful Noise.
Like The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, I really liked the visual aspect of the book. I thought the drawings added a lot, but only the realistic drawings. There were certain bugs being talked about that I didn’t know what they were, so the pictures helped me imagine the bugs and know what the poems were talking about. But I didn’t like the pictures that were cartoonish. I’m thinking specifically about “Book Lice” and “Honeybees.” That’s not how bugs look. They don’t have cute faces and they certainly don’t lounge on davenports. That just didn’t do it for me. And I think if every picture would have been in that cartoonish style, I wouldn’t have had a problem with it because it would become just another aspect of the book. But with so many poems having realistic drawings, the cartoony drawings seem awkward and out of place.
One of the reasons I really liked this book was because of the performance factor. The author states right up front that it is to be read aloud. Some people would say that all poetry should always be read aloud and nothing else is acceptable. I completely disagree with this, but with these poems it makes a lot of sense. I coach the speech team at Wayzata High School, and as I was reading these poems I could definitely see a duo speech going on. I was hearing the way the words worked together and picturing what it would like with people performing the poems. Not just reading, but performing. And I thought it was rather easy to pick out which poems would work the best for that type of speech. “Honeybees” would be really fun, and I thought “The Digger Wasp” was strangely touching. “House Crickets” could be interesting, and “Mayflies” would be too. I think anything that gets students out of their chairs and doing something is great, and this is definitely something I could use in a 9th grade class. To get the kids thinking about how poetry as performance is so fun and exciting is a great thing.

Response to 19 Varieties of Gazelle

My first response to this book was, interestingly, not to the text or content at all. That’s odd for me because I’m usually very focused on those things, but instead this time my first response was to the form and layout of the book. I stared at the cover for about five minutes trying to figure out what the picture is. I wondered if it was Nye herself, and thought it would be really funny for an author to put a picture of herself on the cover of a non-politically inclined book. So then I thought it was a different girl who was just supposed to be representative of a Middle Eastern person. Looking closely, it looks to me like the girl is wearing a normal, “American” sweatshirt, which surprised me a little. If she is supposed to represent Middle Eastern culture, why is she wearing a piece of American clothing? Especially when she has the head wrap that is so representative or symbolic of that culture. And then it dawned on me that perhaps that’s exactly what Nye wanted on the cover, a younger person who melds the Middle Eastern culture with the American culture. It sets the tone for the book, that though it says “poems of the Middle East” on the cover, this is not a book for, by, or about the Middle East. It is a book that speaks to cultures and peoples and stereotypes and experiences beyond any border. It brings, especially, the American and Middle Eastern cultures into one human experience.
One thing I wanted to know was what the girl on the cover is holding. I didn’t see it anywhere in the acknowledgements or copyright page or anything. And I didn’t notice it anywhere in the poems themselves, though I wouldn’t know what I was looking for if it was named in a poem, so I guess it could have been anywhere and I just wouldn’t have known it. It’s a really cool looking thing, and I really wanted to know what it is, but I couldn’t find it.
That brings me to the form of the text inside the book. I’m not sure I can totally explain it, but I just really liked the layout. I like the first letter of each poem being all fancy, and I like the title of each poem going up the side of the page. It sort of leads your eye in a circular pattern instead of a rectangular pattern, if that makes any sense. But the thing I liked most was the little leaf emblem at the end of each poem. When I’m reading a poem, it’s important for me to know where the poem ends. It affects how I read the poem. So knowing exactly when each poem ends is sort of a deal for me. I know that sounds weird, but I loved that.
Okay, to this point in the paper, it may seem like I didn’t actually read the book. I assure, I did. The whole thing. And I won’t lie to you, I thought the form and layout were better than the actual poetry in the book. There were moments when I thought, “Wow, this is really, really good stuff.” But those moments were not common. One such example, however, is “My Father and the Figtree” (6). This was the second poem in the book, and so it gave me high hopes for the rest of the poems. The personal nature of the poem is really quite beautiful, and the symbolism of the figtree as this joyful, lovely, make-life-better thing that everyone chases is outstanding. And I love that he doesn’t rush after it, he simply bides him time, seeming to know that it would be better to hold the memory than accept an imitation. And in the end, he gets what he wanted all along. Somehow, in this shattered world, there are little bits of hope.

Response to Looking for Alaska

This is a book I really, really enjoyed, but I wouldn’t call it faultless. There were a couple things I didn’t quite buy into, but all in all it was very enjoyable.
A big reason I liked it so much is because I can hear my friends talking the way the characters talk. The conversations they have sound like something my friends would say. I really grew to love the characters because of that, and also because they seemed to genuinely care about each other but also had a ton of fun. The scene that springs to mind for me is when Pudge and Takumi have the following exchange:
He [Takumi] pulled out a think headband. It was brown, with a plush fox head on the front. He put it on his head.
I laughed. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s my fox hat.”
“Your fox hat?”
“Yeah, Pudge. My fox hat.”
“Why are you wearing your fox hat?” I asked.
“Because no on can catch the motherfucking fox.” (104)

This dialogue absolutely slayed me. I laughed out loud, and that was one of many times I did that while reading. I can hear my friends saying things like that, and that allowed me to connect to the book. And it wasn’t just the main characters, all of the dialogue felt very real to me and not concocted to make a point. It was just very…sincere, I guess. It wasn’t presumptuous and it didn’t feel fake, with everyone, from the students to the Weekend Warriors to the teachers and parents, it just felt exactly how those people would talk.
I also really enjoyed the motif of the last words. It kind of held everything together, and I like that we never really find out Alaska’s last words. We know some of what happened on that night, but there is no way to really know her last words, and I was really relieved about that. Had there been some character who heard her, like a policeman or a truck driver or something, I’m afraid that would have been really contrived and unrealistic. I don’t know, maybe it would have been just fine, but I tend to think that the way it ended is better than anything that would have been connected to her last words.
The mystery of the book was really enjoyable as I read. I wanted to know what we were leading up to, and I found myself trying to guess. Will Alaska and Pudge make out? Then, after they do make out, will they have sex? Will Alaska drop out of school? Will Pudge take the blame for something and get kicked out? I just had no idea, and I did not see the death coming. I just thought that format for the book was really cool. Though I did find myself trying to figure out how long anything higher than 30 days actually was. 117 days doesn’t mean a lot to me, three and half months does.
The one aspect of the story that stuck in my craw a little bit was how quickly Pudge seemed to change when he got to Culver Creek. He seemed like such an outcast back home, and when he gets to prep school a few people who are really well known take a liking to him, and he fits right in. I’m just not sure I buy that quick personality change. Over the course of a few months, maybe, but not the day he arrives.
Finally, I have to talk about the things going on in this book that I just can’t get behind. It glorifies smoking, drinking, casual sex, and foul language, and I’m not on board with those things. And so it brings to the question of, how could I give this to a student and feel good about it? I know the point of this class is not to be thinking about how we would teach it but rather the book itself, but I couldn’t help coming back to that question as I read. I don’t want my students doing any of those things, but that’s what the book is about and it makes it seem totally normal and acceptable. And it’s a problem because of how much I like the book. If I hated it, I would have tossed it aside and never even mentioned it existed to any students. But it’s so good that I want people to read it. Argh.

Response to How I Live Now

I felt a little weird about How I Live Now right off the bat because it’s written in such a rambling style. There’s very little punctuation, and I don’t think there are any quotation marks anywhere in the book. It just quotes people without quoting them. That’s very strange to me. Whenever I see stuff like that, I wonder what the purpose is, and almost every time I eventually decide that the author is just trying to be clever. And that bothers me, to be perfectly honest. I don’t want a clever author, I want a good book. To explain a little more, the main problem I have with clever authors is that they can’t explain the decisions they make when it seems to need an explanation.
First point of the author not being able to explain her cleverness when I felt like it needed it: This war that’s going on. What is it? Who is it? When is it? I was really confused the whole time because I didn’t know what was going on. I kept hoping and waiting for the war explanation to come, and it just never did. And I understand the kids were pretty cut off from the world, and so they didn’t have a lot to go off of, but I wanted the explanation to come from Osbert, or maybe the family Daisy and Piper go to live with, the military family. See, I feel like the author wanted to create this “World War III” type feel to the book, but she didn’t want to think about how the war started, who it was between, why it was carrying on, or what it accomplished. She just cast that stuff to the side and moved on. I wanted to know what was going on, and from what I could tell I don’t think the author had a great reason for not putting that stuff in.
Second point of the author not being able to explain her cleverness when I felt like it needed it: Living in the woods. Really? This girl has been living in a big house with her English cousins for a few months and I’m supposed to believe she’s suddenly turned into Robinson Crusoe? How does she know all this stuff? She’s finding food, putting up shelter, and getting them around with a map that doesn’t tell them much. I know survival instinct can kick in, but that still doesn’t drop knowledge into your head. If I was put out in the woods in the middle of nowhere like that, I’d be dead in approximately 23 minutes. I just can’t believe that Daisy has that in her.
Third point of the author not being able to explain her cleverness when I felt like it needed it: The ending. Completely unsatisfying. She picks up the phone, and six years later she’s back in the States and the war is over. I’m sorry, what? What happened? We’re just skipping all that? Okay, I guess we’ll skip that because what happened to Edmund has to be really interesting. Is he dead? Did he get home? Oh, okay, he’s home, and he saw all those people die. But is that why he is the way he is? There’s very little explanation regarding Edmund’s state at the end of the book. Again, I feel like the author just didn’t want to think about it. It just happens too quickly for me to take it seriously.
I also have to add that I am just not okay with the cousin sex relationship aspect of this book. It happens pretty near the beginning of the book, and it threw me off right away. I know they don’t know each other so it’s like meeting someone new, but still, they are cousins, so stuff like that shouldn’t go on. And it makes me wonder again what the author’s intent is. Am I supposed to be okay with this type of relationship? Is it supposed to make me view Daisy and/or Edmund in a certain light? Is it supposed to tug at my heartstrings? Because it doesn’t, it just grosses me out. I would have been perfectly fine with a really close friendship that even bordered on love but with no sexual aspect, and I have no idea why the author decided to make that such a prominent part of the book.

Response to The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

The first thing that struck me before I even started reading this book was the title and the use of the word “Indian.” In our age of constant political correctness, I didn’t know what to expect when I saw the title on the syllabus, a book about a Native American or somebody from India. Of course, upon receiving the book it was quite obvious, and as I got into the book I was surprised to find that everyone in the book used the term Indian. I suppose the events happened a while ago, during a time when those terms were not necessarily considered offensive, but it still surprised me a little bit.

The difference between our “normal” American culture and that of the Native Americans was a huge reason that I enjoyed this book. The biggest example for me was when Junior’s grandma dies and he says, “Each funeral was a funeral for all of us. We lived and died together” (166). This is philosophy that is not very prevalent in our culture. We tend to think “Every man for himself” and things like that, but in this culture everyone is connected and feels like they’re all in it together. I suppose that’s why it’s such a big deal when Junior leaves the reservation. Everyone else stays in part because that’s what everybody does, and by leaving Junior has forsaken that mentality. His friends see him as a kind of traitor, but he really is making the best decision he can for his future. The interesting this is that not everyone, and in fact very few people, see it that way. The best thing for the future is to stay on the reservation and remain connected to your family and friends, no matter the quality of life. Junior sees a different reality. He wants to do something in the world and the only way to do that is to attend a different school, so he makes that decision knowing that he will be scorned. He is now a part of two different worlds, and really not a total part of either one.

As we grow up, we are constantly trying to figure out how to best fit in to the culture around us. A very funny example of this comes in “The Unofficial and Unwritten Spokane Indian Rules of Fisticuffs” (61). In his reservation life, Junior has a schema that he understands in regard to fighting. But outside of the reservation, the rules are completely different. Junior punched Roger because that’s what he understood he was supposed to do, but Roger walked away and Junior was very confused. He had followed the rules that he knew, but the rules were different here. Junior has changed his schema to fit into his new understanding of the world, and I think everybody does that as they grow up, not just adolescents. We have understandings of the world we live in, and when something doesn’t fit into our understanding either we disregard it or we change our understanding to make it fit. Junior didn’t just change his understanding, he expanded it, something very few people on the reservation seem willing to do. And as he changed his understanding of the world, he changed his understanding of himself as well. No longer was he a freak Indian kid like he seemed to see himself through his drawings, but he was accepted by other kids and a star basketball player. So much of our personality is defined simply by how we see ourselves, and when he was able to see himself in a different way, he was able to see the world and his situation in a different way as well.

One part of the book that did bother me a little bit was when Junior’s new team plays his old reservation high school and beats them by 40 points. Junior is ashamed for beating his old teammates because he knows they don’t eat enough, have abusive parents, have no future, and various other problems. Here’s my problem: Had the reservation team won that game, NONE OF THAT WOULD HAVE CHANGED! Look, I love sports, the main class that I teach is Sports Literature, and I watch them a lot. But I detest the notion that winning a game makes anything better. Had Wellpinit won that game, the kids would not have had more to eat, would still have abusive parents, and most likely would still have not gone on to college. The game is simply that: a game. To be so ashamed because you beat another team full of kids that have a hard life does no good. If you really want to help them, don’t let them win a basketball game, give them a bag full of groceries or a place to spend the night. Even with how much I enjoyed this book, this scene left a sour taste in my mouth.