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Going Graphic: Graphic Novels on the Outstanding Books for the College Bound List

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In continuing the short reviews and discussion of the titles on this year’s Outstanding Books for the College Bound list (OBCB), I thought I’d hit on format in this roundup, rather than thematic connections. One of the things that makes me really proud of the work we did on this list was that we included a nice number of graphic novels and graphic non-fiction titles. Even though it seems like those who are huge readers have been “on to” graphic books forever, it’s still a format not everyone widely accepts as a legitimate type of reading. The books that we were able to include in a list of books for those who want to attend college or who are life long learners in the graphic format definitely prove otherwise — included here are both fiction and non-fiction graphic novels, as well as a couple of graphic novel hybrids.

These titles spanned all of the categories on the OBCB list, so I haven’t read them all personally. Because of that, I’m going to format this roundup a little bit differently than the previous formats. I’ll offer up the official WorldCat description for each, and then for the titles I have read or have more to elaborate upon, I’ll note that beneath.

As a bonus, many of the graphic novels are also diverse titles. 



March: Book One by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell: John Lewis’s autobiographical account of his lifelong battle for civil rights for all Americans.

I didn’t get a chance to read this one, but it looks like an outstanding (auto)biographical work about John Lewis’s life and how much a role he played during the civil rights movement. 

Philosophy: A Discovery in Comics by Margreet De Heer: A fun introduction in comics to deep thinking and the history of philosophy. 

The WorldCat description tells you everything and nothing about this little gem. It is a fun introduction to the history of philosophy, but it’s more than that. While it definitely offers a solid history, the core of the book is about how readers can learn to develop their own ideas about philosophy and figure out what their own philosophy on life is. It’s easy to follow and it’s not going to go over the heads (nor bore!) readers who may not be interested in philosophy or those who think that philosophy is a tough, hard-to-grasp concept. This makes it really easy. 

Relish: My Life in the Kitchen by Lucy Knisley: Lucy Knisley loves food. The daughter of a chef and a gourmet, this talented young cartoonist comes by her obsession honestly. In her forthright, thoughtful, and funny memoir, Lucy traces key episodes in her life thus far, framed by what she was eating at the time and lessons learned about food, cooking, and life. Each chapter is bookended with an illustrated recipe– many of them treasured family dishes, and a fewof them Lucy’s original inventions. 

I reviewed this book last year, well before deciding to nominate it for OBCB consideration. What made this a standout and one we decided to put on the Arts & Humanities list was how much love was poured into food and eating. This is the kind of book anyone — from a passionate foodie to a person who merely enjoys a good meal now and then to the reader who has never thought much about the food they eat — could get into. Knisley’s art is really enjoyable, and her ability to be respectful of the way food connects us as people and the way food becomes a centerpiece to our lives gets at the heart of arts and humanities. 

American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang: Alternates three interrelated stories about the problems of young Chinese Americans trying to participate in the popular culture. Presented in comic book format.

That’s not the most useful WorldCat description, but it’s pretty spot on about what the book is. It’s been a long time since I read this one — back in grad school is when I think I read it — but it’s one that’s stuck with me not just because it’s three interconnected stories about the Chinese-American experience, but also because of how outstanding the artwork is. This is easily a classic of YA literature and of graphic novels for young readers (if not graphic novels, period) and it’s a perfect fit for the list.

Feynman by Jim Ottaviani and Leland Myrick: In this substantial graphic novel biography, First Second presents the larger-than-life exploits of Nobel-winning quantum physicist, adventurer, musician, world-class raconteur, and one of the greatest minds of the twentieth century: Richard Feynman. Written by nonfiction comics mainstay Jim Ottaviani and brilliantly illustrated by First Second author Leland Myrick, Feynman tells the story of the great man’s life from his childhood in Long Island to his work on the Manhattan Project and the Challenger disaster. Ottaviani tackles the bad with the good, leaving the reader delighted by Feynman’s exuberant life and staggered at the loss humanity suffered with his death. 

War Brothers: The Graphic Novel by Sharon McKay and Daniel Lefrance: Jacob is a 14-year-old Ugandan who is sent away to a boys’ school. Once there, he assures his friend Tony that they need not be afraid — they will be safe. But not long after, in the shadow of the night, the boys are abducted. Marched into the jungle, they are brought to an encampment of the feared rebel soldiers. They are told they must kill or be killed, and their world turns into a terrifying struggle to endure and survive.

This is a title I didn’t get my hands on, despite being on one of my own subcommittee’s lists. If you’ll remember, one of the things I talked about in terms of the committee process is that sometimes, you don’t get to read everything (in this case, the book was too new and I couldn’t get it at work, nor could I interlibrary loan it) but a good argument and discussion by those who did read it can persuade you to consider it worth including on the list. I’ve since acquired it for my library and look forward to checking it out. 

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie: Budding cartoonist Junior leaves his troubled school on the Spokane Indian Reservation to attend an all-white farm town school where the only other Indian is the school mascot.

Alexie’s novel isn’t a straight graphic novel — it’s a hybrid. It’s been years since I read this one, but like with Yang’s title, it’s a staple of YA lit and it’s a perfect fit for the Literature and Languages list. This could have easily fit, too, on the History and Cultures list. 

Chasing Shadows by Swati Avasthi and Craig Phillips: Chasing Shadows is a searing look at the impact of one random act of violence. Before: Corey, Holly, and Savitri are one unit– fast, strong, inseparable. Together they turn Chicago concrete and asphalt into a freerunner’s jungle gym, ricocheting off walls, scaling buildings, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. But acting like a superhero doesn’t make you bulletproof. After: Holly and Savitri are coming unglued. Holly says she’s chasing Corey’s killer, chasing revenge. Savitri fears Holly’s just running wild– and leaving her behind. Friends should stand by each other in times of crisis. But can you hold on too tight? Too long? In this intense novel, told in two voices, and incorporating comic-style art sections, Swati Avasthi creates a gripping portrait of two girls teetering on the edge of grief and insanity. Two girls who will find out just how many ways there are to lose a friend– and how many ways to be lost. 

I reviewed Avasthi’s title before I nominated it for our list and I still stand behind everything in that review for why it belongs on the OBCB list. One other reason is that this story is set in that strange time period between the end of high school and whatever comes next. Though there have been more of those books in recent years, Avasthi’s handling of the social elements in that time frame — friendship, specifically — really makes it stand out. This, like Alexie’s book, is a graphic hybrid, rather than a solid graphic novel. 

Pluto by Naoki Urasawa (the entire manga series): In a world where man and robots coexist, the powerful Swiss robot Mont Blanc has been destroyed. Elsewhere a key figure in a robot rights group is murdered. The two incidents appear to be unrelated…except for one very conspicuous clue – the bodies of both victims have been fashioned into some sort of bizarre collage complete with makeshift horns placed by the victims’ heads. Interpol assigns robot detective Gesicht to this most strange and complex case – and he eventually discovers that he too, as one of the seven great robots of the world, is one of the targets.

This series of books is on the Science and Technology list, and it’s one that I didn’t read. It sounds really fantastic though, and I appreciate how an entire manga series is on the OBCB list — not only does it showcase how graphic novels can be “real reading,” but it shows that even a format that many consider to be “lesser” than more “prestigious” graphic novels are worthwhile, thought-provoking, important reads. 

Little Fish: A Memoir From a Different Kind of Year by Ramsey Beyer: Told through real-life journals, collages, lists, and drawings, this coming-of-age story illustrates the transformation of an 18-year-old girl from a small-town teenager into an independent city-dwelling college student. Written in an autobiographical style with beautiful artwork, Little Fish shows the challenges of being a young person facing the world on her own for the very first time and the unease–as well as excitement–that comes along with that challenge. 

Beyer’s memoir is maybe less of a graphic novel than the others on this list, but I’m including it because the style will have appeal to those readers who love the graphic format. This is sort of collage/scrapbook style storytelling, with art, lists, and images sprinkled throughout the story of Beyer’s first year at art school. What’s great about this book and why it fits so well on the list is that it’s the first-hand experience of the first year of being away at school. There are highs and there are lows, there are expectations met and failed, and there is a lot of musing about relationships past and present. It’s honest and heartfelt, and it’s the kind of realistic portrayal I wish I’d read before I went to college. It would have definitely made me feel less alone or weird in some of the less-than-pleasant feelings I had when I went to college and away from home. 

For the previous roundups of titles on the Outstanding Books for the College Bound list, you can find them on the topics of music and musicality, religion and spirituality, girls across borders, and football and football culture. 

Girls Across Borders: Reviews from the Outstanding Books for the College Bound List

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To round out women’s history month and continue talking about some of the amazing titles on this year’s Outstanding Books for the College Bound list (OBCB), I thought I’d dive into the books on the list that talk about girls across borders. This is a longer roundup of titles, as there were a number of really great titles that would fall under this umbrella. Some of the borders these girls move across are physical, some are mental, and some are socially-constructed boundaries. I’ve pulled the titles from across the five categories of the OBCB list, so there’s a little literature, a little social science, and a little bit of arts and humanities covered here.

Sold by Patricia McCormick

This isn’t a new title, and it’s not one that hasn’t gone unnoticed or not earned accolades. That’s for good reason. This is a powerful novel in verse about human trafficking and prostitution.

Thirteen year old Lakshmi lives in Nepal, and when a devastating
monsoon destroys her family’s crops, her step-father informs her that her duty is to help the family recover from this tragedy. While she’s under the impression that she’s being sent to do work a a maid, the truth is, she’s being sold into prostitution in India.

It’s a harsh, cruel, and brutal world, but Lakshmi does what she can to endure. She’s able to at least try to foster friendships with the other girls in the brothel.

Sold is horrifying and heart-wrenching, and it’s not necessarily the kind of story with a happy ending to it. What’s left unsaid because of the verse style of the novel is as painful as those things which are said and described. Likewise, despite being a fictional novel, it’s clear that McCormick has done her research on the truth behind stories like Lakshmi’s, and she’s unflinching in what she presents as the truth of her experiences as a child sold into prostitution.

Though not a personal favorite read of mine, it’s one that I am still thinking about months later. It’s powerful, and it’s the kind of story any reader curious about the ongoings in other parts of the world should read. But, of course, they shouldn’t read it for just that. Because as much as we want to believe this is an issue “in other places,” it still happens in the places with which we have great familiarity.

Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

So what can be done about oppression and the horrific abuses women suffer around the world? Kristof and WuDunn delve into what we can do and how we can do it in their work.

I should note before diving into this a bit more than this book didn’t work for me. It’s really brutal, even more so than Sold, and I had a problem more specifically with how these women’s stories of being hurt and broken and abused were coaxed out of them in a way that I felt took the power away from the victim and instead gave it to Kristof and WuDunn. But I note that this was my personal bias in the reading and it came up because this book is PACKED with these sorts of stories — it’s not an easy read nor is it a gentle one and it’s not meant to be either of those things.

That said, this is the kind of book any reader interested in social justice, particularly on a global scale, should pick up. It gives a broad perspective of practical things that can be done to help make the world a little bit of a safer place for women who endure brutality. It puts a real face and story to the ones told by McCormick in Sold. I should be fair in stating, too, that alongside the really tough reads are stories about how many women recovered from their positions and situations. Those are, of course, meant to be a call to action.

Factory Girls: Voices from the Heart of Modern China by Leslie T. Chang

When you think of China, what do you think? What about those stickers littering your clothes or on toys that proclaim “made in China?”

Chang enters into migrant China and follows two girls through their “careers” in the factory/migrant world. Min and Chunming represent the girls who leave their village homes and seek work in the cities inside factories that run them dry, pay them little, and “own” them. But what’s most fascinating is how Chang doesn’t necessarily look at this as a negative thing in and of itself; these girls see these jobs as upward mobility in China. This exploration of China’s social situations and work/personal lives is fascinating, heartbreaking, and — surprisingly — somewhat hopeful. Although I found Chang’s personal history in here boring (I skimmed those few chapters), I see how they relate and tie into the greater story. 
A great book for considering not just the social world of China, but how China’s changed and evolved in the last few decades, how the population has adapted to this, what promise and hope look like for young women who aren’t attending colleges/universities, and it’s also a means of reflecting upon our own choices in what we purchase and use product-wise in America. We consume the goods these girls take part in making; how does and should this impact us here, knowing what those jobs there might mean?

Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok

Going back to fiction and back to the US momentarily, Kwok’s novel focuses on the double life which immigrants to this country can sometimes lead.

Kimberly Chang and her mother arrived in Brooklyn from Hong Kong poor but eager to get away from their home country. They’re set up in an apartment of squalor. During the day, Kimberly is an immensely talented and eager school girl. From that, it would appear she’s living the American Dream, but it’s far from that.

At night, Kimberly works in the factories and hopes to help supplement the income her mother has in order for them to stay afloat in their new home. She’s obligated to help, and in the process of this work, Kimberly comes to a number of realizations about how much responsibility falls on her to help make life in this country possible. There is a romance that emerges in the story, as well, and it’s in these scenes where readers get a real sense of the challenges faced — no matter which decision or opportunities Kimberly pursues, she’s going to have to work hard and make significant sacrifices.

What happens, too, when someone finds out about your real home life and it doesn’t match the face you present in the classroom?

Girl in Translation makes for a really interesting read against Factory Girls. While they’re set in entirely different worlds, what these girls do and don’t do reflect the realities of their worlds in ways that make them almost more similar than they make them different. 

Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow by Faiza Guene

If I had to pick a single book I read over the course of OBCB work that stood out to me the most, it would be Guene’s novel. I’d put it off for quite a while because I had no idea what it was about (the title and the cover didn’t attract me) but when I picked it up, I read it in a single sitting.

What a little gem of a book. This was published adult but has mega YA appeal, as it’s about a 15-year-old Doria growing up in the projects about half an hour from Paris. While we have our romantic notions of what Paris is like, that notion is best left to what Paris is — not the suburban landscape. 

Doria’s dealing with her father ditching her and her mother, who is illiterate, as he heads back to Morocco in order to attempt marrying a woman who can sire him a son (that’s all that matters in his culture). It deals with urban issues in a way that’s cross-cultural, about the challenges of growing up between cultures, and what it means to figure out who you are and what you do when your world’s been blown apart. It looks at what happens when the people you’ve come to know and rely on for certain things — their always being there, their always NOT being there — change and mold into their own lives and new paths, too. 

Doria’s voice is amazing: it’s funny, but also deeply hurting and that hurt comes in those really funny moments, making them even more searing. Doria’s not one of those girls who is a miracle, and I think that’s what made it resonate so much. She’s NOT good at school and she doesn’t care. But it doesn’t at all make her worthless or driftless. She’s 15 and only trying to figure it out as best she can. Even when the school reassigns her to a trade she doesn’t care about, Doria’s actions and reactions are real and authentic to who she was. 

The reason this particular novel was one we talked about and thought was worthwhile for including on OBCB was not just the voice, but that it showcased a girl whose cultural identity is one we don’t often see. She’s poor, she’s part French and part Moroccan, and she lives on the outskirts of one of the most romanticized, lauded cities in the world. 

Three other female-lead and female-centric titles that fit within this idea of girls across borders include the following:

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart

There’s not much I need to say about why this book fits not only on the OBCB list (it’s in the literature and languages category) nor about why it fits within this post about girls across borders. Frankie’s a girl who takes charge, gets things done, and does so despite what stands in her way. While fictional and the stakes that exist in the real-life stories discussed above aren’t as high, this is the type of book that fits into the conversation, if it’s not a gateway to the larger conversation about social constructs, gender, and about girls breaking down borders.


Let Me Play: The Story of Title IX, The Law That Changed the Future of Girls in America by Karen Blumenthal

Blumenthal’s non-fiction title, which skews much younger than the other titles on this list, is a carry over from the 2009 list. It’s an excellent look at how Title IX came to be and how women earned their rightful place in sports and athletic history. Here is how girls spoke up and out, despite the challenges standing before them. What keeps this book particularly interesting is how well the photos and sidebars are used and placed throughout.

Rookie Yearbook One edited by Tavi Gevinson

I nominated this title not having read it and wondering if maybe I’d nominated something that had no chance or place on our list. But I was wrong. This book, which is on the arts and humanities list, is such a fantastic guide to pop culture, to counter pop culture, to fashion, and to music. More than that — and I think why this is such a perfect fit for the OBCB list, as well as for this roundup of titles in particular — is that it explores “big issues” that teen girls face. It tackles figuring out what you want to do with your life, how to begin and end friendships, as well as sexuality, dating, and more. Tavi and her fellow writers have their fingers on the pulse of being a teen girl, and while things like makeup tips or fashion photo shoots won’t capture the interest of all girls who pick up this title, there are powerful pieces in here that will speak to them. This isn’t a book you sit and read cover to cover; it’s more a book you pick up and read when you feel like you need to talk to someone who will get you and offer you some really worthwhile advice or food for thought on life stuff. A big thumbs up, too, for this book featuring models of many colors and more than one shape.

Earlier title roundups of books on the Outstanding Books for the College Bound list I’ve talked include titles tackling music and musicality, football and football culture, and religion and spirituality.

Music and Musicality: Reviews from the Outstanding Books for the College Bound List

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I’ve been working through talking about the different books on the Outstanding Books for the College Bound list over the last few weeks, and it’s been interesting to not only talk about a year’s worth of work, but it’s been interesting to see the different themes that have popped up beyond the categories the list has set up that mirror the liberal arts. A couple of weeks ago, I highlighted books tackling religion and spirituality, followed by books that looked at football and football culture. This week, I thought I’d talk about four books on the Arts and Humanities list that all dive into some component of music. These are four very different books — two are non-fiction, two are fiction, but all speak to an element of music and/or musicality and the way music impacts us.

Ready for a Brand New Beat: How “Dancing in the Streets” Became the Anthem for a Changing America by Mark Kurlansky

Admittedly, this is a book I had a hard time reading and ultimately ended up choosing not to finish, but it’s also one that I completely saw the merit in and understand why committee members loved it and wanted it on our list.

Kurlansky’s a great writer, and in this book, he looks at how the song “Dancing in the Street” came to be. It’s a story about not just the song and the power behind it, but it’s about the 1960s in Motown, as well as about race during the civil rights era. Woven in is how the song became an anthem for an entire generation — while many people may be familiar with the really dance worthy version of “Dancing in the Street,” Kurlansky talks about how the song has been rendered in far different manners by very different artists. In talking about that, he’s able to explore how once a piece of work is out there, it takes on a life of its own.

Readers who like Motown, classic rock, or are interested in the progression of music and the social climate of this time period will dig this book. There is an extensive list of versions of the song included, so readers who want to dive in deeper can seek out this versions and actually listen through the history and thesis presented.

The Holy or the Broken: Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and the Unlikely Ascent of “Hallelujah” by Alan Light

Where Kurlansky’s exploration of “Dancing in the Street” didn’t work for me, Light’s book about “Hallelujah” did work for me. Like Kurlansky, this is a look at how a song changes and becomes something new and different as new artists choose to work and adapt it to their own interpretations. Unlike Kurlansky’s book, this one is far less about sociopolitical and cultural aspects surrounding the song and a lot more about how a song becomes the kind of song everyone knows (and how it becomes the kind of song no longer allowed to be reinterpreted on “American Idol”).

I’m familiar with “Hallelujah” because I’m quite familiar with Buckley. I went through a phase in high school where I became fascinated with his story, and it was through that I learned about the song and about the song having had its start with Cohen. However, I didn’t know the history of the song and Light did an excellent job talking about how Cohen wrote and presented the song against how Buckley chose to interpret and sing the song. While reading this one, I pulled up YouTube to look up every rendition discussed and it only aided in my enjoyment of the book.

Teens will be familiar with “Hallelujah” because of Idol or because of it having been a part of Shrek, and each of those things are talked about in here. There’s discussion of how the song has been interpreted as religious, as well as how it’s been interpreted to be the exact opposite of religious and how it is both of those interpretations can be accepted and embraced. Cohen’s original vision of the song, as well as some of the verses left off the Buckley track, are talked about. But I think my favorite thing was watching how the two of them sang the song as I read Light’s take on it — Buckley’s heart is bleeding while Cohen sings with a look that suggests it’s darkly humorous.

This one’s for the pop culture lovers, as well as those who like good — though not necessarily hard-hitting — music journalism.

 

Two YA fiction titles are included on the Arts & Humanities list, too, which feature music in some capacity. Both are books I’ve talked about here and here, so I won’t go into too much depth, other than to talk a bit as to why they’re on the list and how they work in the music and musicality theme.

All Our Pretty Songs by Sarah McCarry: I talked about the feminist aspect of this book, but something I didn’t touch on was the musicality of it. This is a novel that’s not only lushly written, but it’s a story set in the grunge heavy, 1990s Pacific Northwest. McCarry’s story is a retelling of Orpheus myth, and the main character (who is unnamed) and her best friend Aurora are drawn to a boy named Jack because of his musical charm. While the focus isn’t the music, music is a huge part of the story and it’s the bond that ties the two girls together. This could have easily fit into the Literature & Languages category, but it was the music, combined with the story of a tighter-than-tight friendship between two girls, that made it fit the Arts & Humanities list.

It’s a challenging, literary title that will resonate really strongly with the right readers.

The Lucy Variations by Sara Zarr: This is a story about a girl who was forced into the “family business” of piano performance, as she’s a legacy. It’s what the Beck-Moreaus do. But after being pushed to the brink, Lucy chooses to walk away from everything unraveling before her as a career pianist. The story follows as she learns to rediscover herself after performance, as much as it’s about Lucy coming to learn that she can love playing piano completely and entirely for herself, as opposed to doing it to meet the expectations of those around her.

The pursuit of passion and the exploration of how one chooses to devote to art as a career or art as a hobby should hit strong notes for those readers who’ve ever had to think about what it means to make art and what it means to be an artist.

Football Culture: Reviews and Thoughts from Outstanding Books for the College Bound

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Continuing on with talking about the titles on this year’s Outstanding Books for the College Bound list (which began with touching on the religious/spiritual books and memoirs) I thought it would be timely to talk about the books across the OBCB list that were connected to football and football culture.

As you may or may not know, last week, NFL football prospect Michael Sam came out about his sexuality in advance of the draft. The decision to own who he is in anticipation of achieving his own goals of being drafted to the big league is something worth talking and thinking about. Football has a culture surrounding it, and that culture is why Sam’s coming out is such a huge deal: it’s not something generally talked about, let alone embraced.

One of the things we were looking for on OBCB and something we talked a great deal about was getting sports-related books onto our lists in some capacity. It turns out we had three football titles, each in a separate category, and each one of them looks at the culture of football in some way. Though none touch on what we’re seeing right now in the media with Sam and his decision to come out, part of why these three books made the lists is because they’re things that we haven’t seen talked about in the media. And though it sounds like they’re all downers or they’re unnecessarily harsh on football and sports culture, they’re not. They do shed light into the dark side of the sport, but all pay respect to what football is, why people love it, and why people want to play it. Readers seeking good sports books will find these three showcase very different things and do so in a way that respects the game.

Scoreboard, Baby: A Story of College Football, Crime, and Complicity by Ken Armstrong and Nick Perry

Though it tackles probably some of the harshest stuff on the OBCB list, Armstrong and Perry’s book was one of — if not the — best books I read while serving on committee. It’s one I found by accident while seeking out anything sports-themed that might have a tie-in to what people are aware of in the sports world socially today.

This is a piece of investigative journalism that began as a news story in Seattle and blossomed out into a full blown book that’s incredibly compelling, fascinating, and disturbing. The book follows the University of Washington’s football team in 2000 as players are accused of committing a series of crimes, including rape, drug possession, attempted murder, and more. And while those crimes are the story, what’s at the heart of the book is how the players on this team managed to get away from all of those things and not have their personal lives impact their reputations as heroes. This isn’t a book about how they overcame adversity; it’s a book about why the things they did were purposefully overlooked, buried, or otherwise ignored by the media at the time and why and how it is that even now, over a decade later, those things they’ve been convicted and charged with have no bearing on their reputations or their status as football heroes.

How was it possible that the school, the local police, and the media kept these things quiet? It’s because of what football is and the power it holds.

What’s worth mentioning about this book, too, is that it’s not just the criminals who have page time here. It’s the victims, as well as those who really did need football in their lives to get on the right track. The girl who is at the center of the rape story has a voice in this book, and I found that particularly powerful, as well as particularly hard to read. We see what that crime actually does to her and her future — not just that her rapist manages to avoid having his reputation marred by it, but her experience at school is not any longer an experience that belongs to her. Likewise, there are stories here about the players whose lives changed because of football in a good way. It helped give them drive and purpose, and it allowed them to find themselves in an otherwise scary place at the university.

Anyone interested in politics, in investigative journalism, and in crime or criminology will be fascinated by this, whether they love football or not. And readers who love football but may be less invested in the social and cultural aspects will find the writing about the game itself to be compelling. Perhaps the thing I took away from this book most was not just the fact that it is still relevant today, but many of the names of the players involved in these stories are not only still playing in the big leagues today, but some of them have gone on to be big in the big leagues…and these incidents are still ignored or denied.

League of Denial: The NFL, Concussions, and the Battle for Truth by Mark Fainaru-Wada and Steve Fainaru

Fainaru-Wada and Fainaru’s book is on the science and technology list within the OBCB, and I haven’t read it in full. It had originally been nominated in another category, and I read the first fifty pages before suggesting it switch over.

But what I can say about this book aside from it being very readable is that it’s a little bit about football, a little bit about football culture, a little bit about sports medicine, a little bit about concussions and injuries sustained during football, and a little about how big sports managed to deny and hide the fact that injuries sustained while playing could have brain — and thereby life — altering consequences on players.

Can science show evidence that a problem exists and if so, if a big organization chooses to deny that evidence, who gets the final word? Which one has more power and more believability? What about the players whose lives have been changed, not to mention had their careers ended, because of injuries they got on the field? The NFL is a huge and powerful organization, and even in the wake of a pile of evidence, their power to deny says a lot.

Since I can’t talk much more detail about the book because I haven’t read it in full, I suggest spending a little time with the PBS Frontline report and story about League of Denial. I’d be willing to bet that teens who find this report interesting will be eager to pick up the book (and not just teens, but adults, as well, since our list is broad in scope and audience).

Muck City by Bryan Mealer

Mealer’s title appears on the arts and humanities list within the OBCB, and that’s because the biggest take away from this book is that football is human. What I mean by that is that it has the power to impact people’s lives in a way that goes beyond politics, beyond the culture of responsibility or deniability, and beyond even what it means to win or lose a game.

Set in Belle Glade, Florida, Muck City is about how high school football can become the heart of a city when there needs to be something positive within a broken-down place. I’m not familiar with Florida, aside from my image of beaches and resorts, so sitting down and being put into Belle Glade, which is a poor, broken, dying, crime-ridden town. For more perspective on Belle Glade, it’s often referred to as Muck City because of it’s high concentration of muck, which is what helps sugarcane grow. More than that, Belle Glade is known for having one of the highest concentrations of AIDS infections per capita in the United States — while that statistic is older, it should give a picture of what this community looks and runs like.

The other thing to know about Belle Glade is that it’s also known for sending on a huge number of its high school players to the NFL, with a good number drafted in the first round. Football is one thing that community rallies around, but even more than rallying around their high school’s team, football is a way out of the community for many of its players who have grown up knowing no certainty in their future.

Mealer’s book follows three people. There’s coach Jessie Hester, who was Muck City’s first first star and comes back not to just win championships but to make a huge impact on the kids who he sees through the program. Mario Rowley is the team’s quarterback, and he’s driven by the need to win in order to make his parents — who aren’t alive anymore — proud and to move beyond a string of things in his life that keep holding him back. Football is his ticket out of town, too, if he’s good enough. Then there’s Jonteria Williams, head cheerleader for the team, who wants to get out of Belle Glade and become a doctor. The problem is she needs a scholarship to make it happen, and she pushes herself to the brink in order to help realize this dream.

This is the book to hand to readers who love drama with their personal stories of triumph and adversity. Which sounds really cheesy and reductive, but it’s the easiest way to sell this book to readers. It’s about football and there’s a lot of football in it, but it’s a lot more about what it’s like to grow up in a rough, unforgiving environment and still find things that interest you and make you find a passion and desire in your life.

In many ways, Muck City is football culture on the microlevel in a way that the other two books are football culture on the macrolevel. Together, these three explorations of football manage to look at the big picture — the politics and structure of the system — while also looking at the smaller one — how and why we care and love the game itself.

Religion & Religious Memoirs: Reviews From the OBCB List

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Since the Outstanding Books for the College Bound (OBCB) list is finally live and active, I’m really excited to talk about the books I read this last year and loved. I couldn’t intentionally blog about them last year — though certainly because the scope of our charge was so large, it was impossible to know which titles I had blogged about would show up as potential considerations — so now that I can, I’m hoping it’ll encourage readers to pick up something completely new or consider recommending titles to other readers that may not have otherwise crossed your radar.

I served on two subcommittees of OBCB, reading those titles which fell under the category of Arts and Humanities and those which fell under the Social Science category. I nominated and read and talked about titles in other categories, but the almost fifty titles in my subcommittee lists are all ones I did get a chance to read (with one or two exceptions).

Rather than go down the list and talk about the titles in that order, I thought it would be more worthwhile to talk about them as they relate to different themes. Since I talked a little bit about how much I loved Aaron Hartzler’s Rapture Practice yesterday, it seemed fitting to dive in on the titles which explored religion or spirituality.

As someone who isn’t particularly religious, I won’t lie and say these were the books I was most looking forward to reading or talking about. But I think what makes these books so good and worth talking about is that they all captured my interest despite my own feelings and experiences with religion. There were four books that could really be categorized as “religious” from the Arts and Humanities list, and each one tackles something very different and those very different takes make them really worth reading, discussing, and passing along to other readers.

World Religions: The Great Faiths Explored & Explained by John Bowker

This is a DK book, which if you’re not familiar with, is a publisher that puts together these huge tomes on different topics and explores them in great detail. They tend to be very visually-driven, to the point where I can find them troubling to read because there is so much to wade through.

But it’s that abundance of information which makes Bowker’s exploration of world religions here great. This isn’t a cover-to-cover read. It’s a reference text, and it’s a bigger book, which makes the browsing factor of this more obvious.

This is an incredibly comprehensive overview of religions that are familiar and those which may be less familiar to readers. There are Western religions and Eastern religions, and what makes this book such a great tool is that it’s presented in the most objective manner possible. Bowker doesn’t have an agenda; instead, he’s offering the who, what, where, when, and why of each of the religious practices, and the book itself then highlights the visual artifacts, symbols, and more that give readers even deeper insight into the various practices.

Rapture Practice by Aaron Hartzler

Harzler’s memoir was, hands-down, one of my favorite reads in 2013. In fact, as soon as I finished reading it, I was tempted to write a length post about how much I loved it. But instead, I nominated it for committee consideration.

This is a story about Hartzler growing up in a very Evangelical household as he tries to come to terms with his own religious beliefs, as well as his own sexuality. But the second part of that is not out-and-out the focus of the book. This isn’t Hartzler’s coming out story, and I think knowing that is vital. This is instead his memoir about learning who he is when he’s living in an environment that doesn’t always encourage that sort of exploration. He knows early on he doesn’t have the same affinity toward religious practice and devotion that his parents do, but it’s not something he can be as open and honest about as he would like to be.

But what takes this story from being good to great is that Hartzler is incredibly respectful of everyone in the story. While he thinks a lot of what his parents believe — that the Rapture could happen any minute and they thus need to be prepared — he is conscious of why it is they believe that and he’s okay with it. And a lot of why he is that way is because he hopes that kind of respect can be extended toward him.

Rapture Practice isn’t a condemnation of belief or Evangelical practice. It’s a story about coming to terms with what it is you believe when you don’t necessarily believe in what you’ve grown up with. There is humor as much as heart in this one, and it has great teen appeal. This is a rare memoir written for and about being a teenager.

The Butterfly Mosque by G. Willow Wilson

Wilson’s memoir was published for adults, but it has great teen appeal. Perhaps maybe more than having appeal for teens, this is the kind of book that college students and those who are just out of college will find tremendously interesting because it explores those post-college years in a way that a lot of other books simply don’t.

When Wilson took a course in Islamic Studies in college, she thought she found her path. She wasn’t Islamic, but it was a culture that fascinated her, and when she finished college, she decided to move to Egypt and find work. It was meant to be a way to shock herself with a new and different culture, but what it ended up doing was convincing her that converting to Islam was the right path for her.

The book follows as she rectifies the knowledge, experience, assumptions, and privileges she’s had her whole life as a westerner as she enters into the middle eastern world. She’s very insightful and perceptive, but this never comes off as preachy and it never once comes off as a story about how one culture or experience is better or more right than another. A lot of that comes through when Wilson falls in love with an Egyptian who grew up Islamic — she has to face the prejudices that his family may have and does have about his wanting to marry someone who converted. Could there be bridges built between their very different worlds?

The Butterfly Mosque also offers some interesting views of what it’s like to be a woman in a country where being a woman doesn’t allow as many rights as it does in the western world, as well as what it’s like to be an Islamic woman in this new world. It’s about being a foreigner but wanting to be involved in a new culture without exploiting or using that culture as a means of understanding herself. There are so many wonderful little lines in this book about life and about experiences, but I think the thing that stood out to me the most was that Wilson never comes off as privileged nor does she preach at readers suggesting that the only way to ever live is to have these foreign experiences. Instead, much of her point is that self-reflection is key to finding peace with yourself and beliefs and that self-reflection is precisely what makes you smart, strong, and gives you confidence to face new and challenging things, whatever those things in front of you may be.

There is definitely romance here, and I think for many teen readers, that will be a really great hook to the bigger story. I love, too, that OBCB has both Wilson’s memoir, as well as her more well-known novel Alif the Unseen, because it really showcases who she is and what it is she’s doing with her career. And she’s really young, too, which should inspire readers in its own right.

The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner’s Semester at America’s Holiest University by Kevin Roose

I read this book back in 2009, and I actually reviewed it here at STACKED back then, too, so I won’t rehash my thoughts on it. One of my hesitations about the book back then was that I had some questions about the authenticity of Roose’s experience, as his mentor was A. J. Jacobs and it reminded me a lot of those “do one weird thing for a year for a book deal” situations.

But I didn’t let that color my beliefs on the value of having this book on the list because I think that Roose talks about and learns, as well as the respect he comes to develop for students at Liberty University, were important and interesting enough to merit a place. Roose’s story replaced Jacobs’s A Year of Living Biblically, which was on the 2009 iteration of OBCB, and I think that the replacement was a good one. Not because Jacobs’s story is no longer relevant — it definitely it is — but because it offers another story, another voice, and another angle on religion and religious practice.

What I find to be interesting in looking at the books on the list in this way, rather than in their big, overarching category of “Arts and Humanities,” is that I can see what the biggest theme is uniting all four of these books, and it’s a simple one: respect. Each of these books explores religion, both eastern and western practices, in very respectful ways. They’re never exploited, and they’re never meant to be studies. The three memoirs specifically are experiential, with great reflection offered by the authors. And I think that those sorts of stories are not only relatable to teen (and adult!) readers, but they give a look into a world through a set of eyes that may or may not go in with an agenda but that come out more educated, more respectful, and perhaps more humble.