Shipwreck

I did not enjoy Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World. I don't feel the need to mask my feelings for the text. To me, it read as overly simplistic without the connection I necessarily desire from a book – I felt no attachment to or sympathy for any characters, and I did not get to know them as people. I am not sure as to the degree to which this can be generalized to the genre of nonfiction as a whole, but I believe that I prefer autobiography/biography and historical fiction books more.

Shipwreck read as a series of events, interlaced with historical context, geographic trivia, and related but disconnected facts. The chapters read the opposite of how I would have written them, starting out with information that I found unengaging before proceeding to the relevant story. The few times the text piqued my interest and ended the chapter, the conclusion to the events I was following did not readily arrive.

The redeeming quality of the text was in the pictures. The selection of pictures and the way they were related to the text made it seem real – and surreal. While some of the pictures were indiscernible from pictures of a Minnesota winter, some of the images were powerful. I especially enjoyed the picture of the boat that looked as if it were a negative. Images of wildlife or the dogloos helped me understand the reality of the story. The multimodal presentation of information ultimately made the book quite interesting.

I am not sure how to assess a book like this. I can't judge it on the plot or story, since those are beyond the author's control. The language didn't speak to me. However, it is important to note that the text was written for a young audience (If I wanted to learn about this independently, I would most likely seek out a higher-level text or read a more straightforward summary such as the Wikipedia page rather than reading a YA book.).

The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963

It's funny to think about which parts of books stick with you. I'd read The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963 a long time ago. So long ago that I didn't remember ever having actually read it. Heck, I didn't even know what it was about, save for the brief description we were given on the first day of class.

When I opened the book, I knew what it was about. The book was written in memory of four girls who died on the same day. I'd seen the Spike Lee movie Four Little Girls. I was expecting the book to fictitiously frame that event. When I started reading, I was surprised.

The book takes the form of a first-person narrative in an episodic format. Rather than being about the murder of four innocent girls, it is about a relatively normal family in Michigan. The children get into antics that are in many ways tame by some of today's standards. It isn't until the end of the novel that the historic incident occurs and impacts the lives of the novel's characters. In fact, race plays a relatively minor role for the first part of the book, and it isn't until the end that the reality of racism is fully realized for the characters.

What is funny to think about is which parts of a book like this stick with you. Just last week, before picking this book up, I was thinking about “some book” that I couldn't remember where a bully-like character insisted that the narrator give him a dollar that he found because of an illogical argument that the bully lost 50 cents the week before and that 50 cents and another 50 cents must have met up to make the found dollar. It sounded like something from The Wayside Stories of Wayside School, not a serious piece of historical fiction. Yet just a few minutes into the book, I run into this exact scene. The memories of having read this before flowed back to me: the fake garbage truck that picked up frozen people, the mom's story about her house getting burned down, the clever chapter titles, the Brown Bomber and the Ultra-Glide, overly-bundled kids and the mom's overreaction to the weather in Michigan. These were the kind of things I remembered (Even if I didn't know where Michigan (or Alabama, for that matter) were when I read it. What's funny is I didn't remember the ending. I knew what happened historically, but I didn't remember reading about it in a YA novel.

What struck me about this novel was the way it compared to The Book Thief. While both are historical fiction, The Book Thief takes place in a specific setting with specific conditions for it's purpose, but is relatively light on actual historical events. The Watsons Go to Birmingham, on the other hand, seems like it takes the opposite approach to the genre. The first two-thirds of the book could be written anywhere, in any time. The chapters largely read like something from a sitcom like Boy Meets World more than a work of historical fiction. It isn't until they ultimately reach Birmingham that the problems of the day become real for the characters.

A large portion of the book is light-hearted and fun. However, the tie in with historical events of racially-motivated violence shattered that image. Writing this now, I've realized that was probably the point that Curtis was trying to convey in writing the novel. I can't help but wonder why that didn't stick with me the first time I read this.

The Book Thief

I liked Death. I know, it's an odd way to begin a response to such a powerful book, but I enjoy the character of Death within The Book Thief. He's highly cynical, and his narration is often morose, but he provides what I see as genuine insight. I viewed Death as having a unique objectivity. He wasn't pigeonholed by nationality, religion, status as a victim or perpetrator, and he is in essence timeless – an eternal universal.

I think this text is valuable in bringing many lessons into the classroom. It is useful for discussing the role of the narrator (as discussed above) and the liberties an author can take with that element of a story. Additionally, it serves well for the purposes of emphasizing literature as a window into a historical area, as well as providing a voice for the oppressed.

But perhaps most interesting in the emphasis the text places on words – both written and spoken. Oration and propaganda, literacy and literature, and embedded narratives within one another. Zusak, through his own written narrative, has put the role of language in a historical context. I believe that this text could get students excited about writing and speaking, reading and listening. If they can get through it. I would imagine that the thickness of the book would be off-putting to students. The language was simple and the book was fairly easy to read. But even as a grad student, approaching the book of that length was intimidating – I can't remember the last thing I read that was over 300 pages. But I believe that if a student picked up the book, and actually gave it a chance, they would enjoy it. The young characters in the text are endearing. Liesel in particular demonstrates a hope in trying to reclaim the very essence of words in order to further her own compassionate means in a time marked by violence and desperation.

I have read very little on World War II beyond history texts, and nothing that could be considered non-fiction. The only insight I have to the personal aspect of the victimization of the war is The Diary of Anne Frank. If I remember correctly, the last lines of that book (or at least near the end), were “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” This stands in contrast to Death's utterance, “I am haunted by people.” This quote brings me back to the original point I made in this post – I like death. He gives us a lens with which to view the events of the book, and he makes clear the brutality of war. Yet Liesel, like Frank, recognizes both the horrors of war and the good in humanity, and tries to look for both. In this sense, the book ultimately, offers insight into what it means to be human, and how this emerges throughout various historical contexts.

Stuck in Neutral

Stuck in Neutral is a narrative from the perspective of a paralyzed teenager suffering from cerebral palsy who is perfectly cognizant of the world around him, but has absolutely no way to show it. This creates a tension in which people think he is a brain-dead vegetable despite the opposite being true. As a result, the narrator, Shawn, believes his father is struggling with the decision of whether or not to euthanize his son.

Interestingly, in spite of the exceptionality of cerebral palsy, Trueman portrays Shawn as a normal teenager in terms of his thoughts. Because of this, Shawns relationship with his father – though complicated with his fathers plans to kill him – is accessible to other teenagers at a time when their beliefs of what is best for them differ from their parents. Describing his father, Shawn illustrates t relationship of conflict with loving father “My dad is a complete jerk and a great guy: He is ugly and handsome, charming and cruel, funny and angry” (23).

In a sense, though Shawn's father does not understand him far beyond the way any teenager claims their parents do not understand them, a reader can still connect with the universal notion of being misunderstood. Shawn states, “My father's version of me is a paper-thin, imaginary Shawn, a two-dimensional version of Dad's worst fears” (29).

One interesting aspect of this relationship is Shawn's understanding of his parents' divorce. Many children and teenagers feel as though they are at fault for a divorce. In Shawn's case, he actually is; his father was unable to cope with his child's condition while maintaining a healthy, normal relationship with the rest of his family

And, beyond these turmoil-filled aspects, Shawn is portrayed as a normal, pervy, boob-obsessed 14-year old.

In regards to these fairly universal themes, Shawn's experiences are relatable, despite being rather exceptional in terms of the conditions surrounding his life. The exceptional nature of the relationship between Shawn and his father resulted in Shawn's father becoming famous for writing a poem about the ordeal. As Shawn puts it, “Dad's fame has made him a professional victim of our relationship.”

This book effectively brings the reader into the mind of Shawn (though Trueman does at times employ an awkward form of writing in which Shawn speaks directly to the reader). In this sense, it is successful as an example of “multicultural literature.” The classification of this text in that category challenged my notion of what constitutes “culture,” which I have generally viewed in terms categories such as race and ethnicity, sexuality and gender, and religion and nationality. However, the text forces the reader to consider the plight and role of those who are essentially a different class of people, as well as the social, cultural, and moral issues surrounding them.

Beyond confronting the specific issues face by those with disabilities, I believe the text challenges the reader recognize the hazards of perspective; that they can't truly know what someone else is experiencing. Just like one cannot understand the experiences of being of a race other than their own, they cannot truly understand what it means to be handicapped. In a way, the book makes an argument for euthanasia. Everything the dad says makes sense, but only from an outsiders perspective. The reader's response, in a way is the same as the audience on the talkshow the dad speaks to, and the reader finds themselves “agreeing with something that they don't quite understand, but that makes too much sense to ignore” (75). But the book's argument against euthanasia is much greater – no one can understand what a specific person experiences or what they might want.

In terms of writing quality and story, the book leaves something to be desired. The book ends with rising tension, leaving the climax and the conclusion to be constructed by the reader. This model conflicts so heavily with the structure of plot that most readers have been raised on that it becomes disconcerting. However, the questions the ending leaves in the reader makes it a valuable text to spark critical thought about serious issues.

Monster

Monster, by Walter Dean Myers, raises interesting questions about race as well as our legal system. As readers, we are called to question the role that emotion plays in the court room and the extent to which race influences these emotions.

Criminal cases in the United States are, in theory, supposed to be based on facts and evidence. If there is reasonable doubt that a defendant committed a crime, they are supposed to be freed. However, throughout Monster, we are introduced to multiple instances of emotion taking over in place of reason. Steve, the protagonist (though it feels strange to call him such as he plays such a passive role in the story), is told by his lawyer, O'Brien, that the jury already believes him guilty. “You're young, and you're Black, and you're on trial. What else do they need to know?” (79). Even O'Brien seems to believe that Steve is guilty, but she does her job of defending him and upholding the law, clinging to the notion of reasonable doubt.

The prosecution feeds on the emotional response of the jury. At one point, the prosecutor sent the jury home with crime scene photos of the murdered victim. This serves no relevance to whether or not Steve is guilty; his guilt has no bearing on whether or not the murder was gruesome – that fact exists independent of the reality of Steve's involvement. Yet these images were used in an attempt to emotionally to manipulate the jury. Emotions play a role in other points throughout the story as well. Steve communicates this through his screenplay, with directions such as “CUT TO: CU of JUROR looking bored” (54), reminding us as readers that the jurors interest has bearing on the potential outcome of a cse.

In my view, the book also illustrates the potential moral issues with the notion of felony murder. Felony murder is a charge, essentially equal to murder in severity of punishment, for being involved in any felony in which a murder takes place, even if one had no involvement in the actual murders. In my mind as a reader, even if Steve had been guilty or being a lookout for an unarmed robber, he had in say in whether or not a murder was going to take place. Oddly, Bobo, who was actually in the store and could have possibly been the actual murderer, wasn't charged with felony murder in exchange for turning in Steve, whose involvement was debatable.

One interesting thing to note is that despite being in the form of a screenplay “written” by a black writer, the novel seems to employ a subtle racism through the notion of white neutrality. Generally, characters are considered to be white unless otherwise specified. For example, Steve, writing the story, feels the need to note that Arthur Williams is a “Black detective,” implying that all the others are white.

The book approaches race multiple times. Race is made a prominent theme in the text, despite the fact that in a courtroom the only thing that is supposed to matter is evidence. A scene with the mayor notes that the city is interested in all crimes, and not just those committed against white people. The book also confronts systemic issues surrounding black Americans, noting that a significant number of black men are unemployed or underemployed, suggesting that this results in a predisposition towards criminal behavior.

In my mind, the format of the book made it very accessible. I formed images in my head as I read as if I was watching Steve's film. The photo illustrations included in the book actually took away from the experience for me, forcing images in place of those I formed as a reader. This text is an engaging read, creating tension as the reader forms an emotional involvement with Steve through his journal entries (the script portion takes a much more neutral view). Raising questions concerning race, morality, and law, the text is thought provoking and would be a wonderful tool to spark discussion and debate in the classroom.

The People Could Fly

The People Could Fly

Several of the stories take the traditional role of the myth, explaining an element of nature. While many of the myths I've previously encountered are from the Greek mythology and explain things like the rise and fall of the sun (Helios's chariot) or the origin of the winter (Demeter's sadness), these folktales explain much less grand aspects of nature, such as the tortoise's beaten shell or the alligator's burned skin.

I found the style of storytelling to be troublesome. The language and detail made the story read as if it were a summary or outline for a greater narrative. This is due to the nature and limitations of folktales; they are told as a series of events. The text lacks a certain flourish. After years of studying literature, it comes off as light in all the elements that I've been taught to look for in works with literary merit.

That is not to say, however, that the works are without literary merit. However, in this instance, the literary merit of folktales such as those found in The People Could Fly comes from their historical place in the culture of a people.

What particularly interested me was the emphasis of cunning and intellect. I enjoy the moral implications of the folktales. The characters (mainly characterized as a rabbit) were clever and willing to take risks in the face of impending doom. This reflected the situation of the enslaved black Americans; while the stories used physical strength, I saw this as being representative of social/political strength. This makes sense that the culture of an enslaved people would admire those who could use their intellect to circumvent the forces working against them.

One barrier I faced in approaching the work was the language. The use of dialectical and African words throughout the stories made it inaccessible to me as a reader. The simple addition of a footnote annotation system would have made the reading much simpler. Instead, the text utilized an endnote system which was impractical for looking up words. While some were fairly clear from the context or from being a cognate to an English word, other words were much less clear. However, the use of traditional language within the folktales enunciates the historical nature of the text. I was interested to learn (what I'm assuming is) the history of the term “tar baby.” I'd only ever heard it used as a derogatory term for black people. After reading the story, I had to look up the term, and it also can be used to describe a “sticky situation,” which I had no idea about.

I did enjoy the titular story, especially with the endnote explaining how it could have been a metaphor for people fleeing. “Euhemerism” is the term for treating mythological accounts as historical events and trying to make sense of the mysticism and supernatural elements. I can see why this story was important.

The People Could Fly

The People Could Fly

Several of the stories take the traditional role of the myth, explaining an element of nature. While many of the myths I've previously encountered are from the Greek mythology and explain things like the rise and fall of the sun (Helios's chariot) or the origin of the winter (Demeter's sadness), these folktales explain much less grand aspects of nature, such as the tortoise's beaten shell or the alligator's burned skin.

I found the style of storytelling to be troublesome. The language and detail made the story read as if it were a summary or outline for a greater narrative. This is due to the nature and limitations of folktales; they are told as a series of events. The text lacks a certain flourish. After years of studying literature, it comes off as light in all the elements that I've been taught to look for in works with literary merit.

That is not to say, however, that the works are without literary merit. However, in this instance, the literary merit of folktales such as those found in The People Could Fly comes from their historical place in the culture of a people.

What particularly interested me was the emphasis of cunning and intellect. I enjoy the moral implications of the folktales. The characters (mainly characterized as a rabbit) were clever and willing to take risks in the face of impending doom. This reflected the situation of the enslaved black Americans; while the stories used physical strength, I saw this as being representative of social/political strength. This makes sense that the culture of an enslaved people would admire those who could use their intellect to circumvent the forces working against them.

One barrier I faced in approaching the work was the language. The use of dialectical and African words throughout the stories made it inaccessible to me as a reader. The simple addition of a footnote annotation system would have made the reading much simpler. Instead, the text utilized an endnote system which was impractical for looking up words. While some were fairly clear from the context or from being a cognate to an English word, other words were much less clear. However, the use of traditional language within the folktales enunciates the historical nature of the text. I was interested to learn (what I'm assuming is) the history of the term “tar baby.” I'd only ever heard it used as a derogatory term for black people. After reading the story, I had to look up the term, and it also can be used to describe a “sticky situation,” which I had no idea about.

I did enjoy the titular story, especially with the endnote explaining how it could have been a metaphor for people fleeing. “Euhemerism” is the term for treating mythological accounts as historical events and trying to make sense of the mysticism and supernatural elements. I can see why this story was important.