Scientology: Two Book Reviews

April 5, 2017 |

I’ve been fascinated with Scientology for a while now, for a number of reasons:

I grew up without religion, which makes almost every religion a source of interest for me as an outsider;
There’s a huge Scientology church right by the University of Texas campus where I went to grad school;
It’s an American-founded religion;
It’s based on the writings of a science fiction author;
It’s intensely secretive and scandal-laden in a pretty awful way;
It’s so new compared to most other religions, meaning we are essentially witnessing its adolescent years. Will it manage to find a way into the mainstream, fade into obscurity, or remain a curiosity for most Americans (and others around the world)?

Whenever a new nonfiction title on Scientology is published, I tend to pick it up. By far the best is Lawrence Wright’s Going Clear, which was made into a (much too short) HBO documentary of the same name a few years ago. It remains the standard for journalistic, accurate (and quite damning) information on Scientology, its founder L. Ron Hubbard, and its current leaders, namely David Miscavige.

The two books I read recently differ from Wright’s account because they are first-person. In Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology, Leah Remini (of the tv show The King of Queens) writes about her time as an actress in Hollywood, growing up in the church, and eventually leaving it. In Ruthless: Scientology, My Son David Miscavige, and Me, Ron Miscavige writes about his own time in the church and his decision to leave it, with a focus on his son, David.

Of the two, Remini’s account is better written and more illuminating. I listened to both of these on audio, and Remini narrates hers herself, adding a lot of personality (she has a pretty strong New York accent). She was a second generation Scientologist who got into the church as a child after her mother started attending. She believed in it wholeheartedly for many years, but slowly grew disillusioned after she started to notice things that were off or outright harmful, including particularly bizarre encounters at Tom Cruise’s house and at his wedding to Katie Holmes. Remini may be best known Scientology-wise as the person who filed the missing person report for Shelly Miscavige, David’s wife, who hasn’t been seen in public in almost a decade.

Remini’s first-person account adds more to the Hollywood dimension of Scientology, and we also get a good feel for Remini’s personality. She writes about her career as an actress and her personal life outside of Scientology as well: how she landed her first roles and eventually was cast in The King of Queens, her affair with a married man who eventually became her husband, her thoughts on motherhood. While this kind of stuff probably won’t be the reason most people pick up her book, they’re still pretty interesting thanks to Remini’s off-the-cuff style.

Ron Miscavige’s book is less successful. His writing style is drier and more repetitive, but his life also just isn’t terribly interesting up until the point when he begins to talk about Scientology. He’s not necessarily a boring person, but his adventures during his childhood, marriage, and raising a family are all pretty normal, and they’re not buoyed by particularly good writing. The Scientology bits are definitely more engaging, but mainly they just made me sad. Ron writes that he decided to write this book when he discovered David had hired people to follow him after he had been out of the church for many years, and when those private investigators saw what they thought was Ron having a heart attack, David told them not to interfere, “if he dies, he dies.” Awful, yes, but worth writing an expose on your son?

I didn’t find Ron’s stories about David as a kid particularly insightful or illuminating. At one point, he writes that David may be a sociopath but he isn’t sure; this is something a reader could have gathered from any first-person account with David Miscavige, and Ron hasn’t had a first-person encounter with his son in many years anyway. Despite Ron’s blood relation to the most powerful person in Scientology, there was remarkably little new information in his book, and he references third parties extensively. It made me wonder if it was really worth it for Ron to write an entire book about how his son is awful. By all accounts David Miscavige is a worm (understatement), but maybe we didn’t need to hear that from his father. Then again, I was the one who chose to read the book.

What I did find interesting about Ron’s account is that he still believes Scientology holds a lot of truth and goodness, he just thinks the leadership has twisted it into something awful. This is not a perspective you usually get from an ex-Scientologist.

Cybils 2016 – Elementary & Middle Grade Graphic Novels

March 8, 2017 |

Lowriders to the Center of the Earth by Cathy Camper and Raul the Third

This is such a great example of a Cybils book. An impala (Lupe Impala), a mosquito (Elirio Malaria), and an octopus (El Chavo Octopus) are three friends who own a garage together. When their pet cat goes missing, they climb into their lowrider and set out to rescue him. What follows is a fast-paced adventure to the center of the Earth, involving Aztec gods, La Llorona, and even a bit of lucha libre. Camper weaves Mexican and Latin American culture seamlessly into the storyline, and her characters pepper their language with Spanish words and phrases (translated for non-Spanish speakers in footnotes at the bottom of each page). The story is rife with wordplay and puns, including some that take advantage of both languages at once. Raul the Third’s pen and ink art is unique and a delight to look at – I can picture kids spending long moments poring over the frequent double-page spreads, picking out every last detail.

The Wolves of Currumpaw by William Grill

This is a graphic adaptation of a story originally published in 1898 by Ernest Thompson Seton (who helped found the Boy Scouts of America), about a wolf named Lobo and various attempts to trap or kill it. I’m not sure how much the text itself was modified by Grill, but it still feels very old-fashioned in its syntax and word choice. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, it did make it a bit of a dry read for me. The art, on the other hand, is phenomenal. I would describe this as a cross between a standard picture book and a graphic novel, because there are no panels, really, though the art is mostly sequential and necessary to the story, as opposed to being merely illustrative. It looks like it was done in colored pencil, a deviation from what most people think of when they picture a comic book. While I didn’t love the text, the art makes this a treasure of a book. In fact, the whole package is gorgeous and a stellar example of bookmaking – thick, somewhat rough pages, a textured cover, oversized. This kind of bookmaking is a hallmark of Flying Eye books and I always look forward to what they publish for this very reason.

Mighty Jack by Ben Hatke

I’m a big fan of Hatke’s work. His stories are so kid-friendly, and he’s a major double threat: great writing, great art. Zita the Spacegirl is one of my favorite graphic novel series and I recommend it all the time. Mighty Jack is his re-telling of Jack and the Beanstalk, and it’s a solid start. Jack’s family consists of his sister Maddy, who has autism and doesn’t speak, and his mom, who is taking a second job over the summer to help make ends meet. The setting appears to be pretty rural and Jack’s family also appears to be pretty poor, both elements you don’t see very explicitly in much kidlit. At the flea market one day, Jack is persuaded to hand over the keys to his mom’s car in exchange for some seeds…by Maddy, who speaks for the first time in Jack’s experience. It’s astonishing enough that Jack makes the trade, though of course he gets in hot water for it (luckily, the car is recovered). But when the seeds are planted, the story deviates from its source material pretty significantly. All sorts of different things grow, not just a beanstalk, and there aren’t really giants to speak of. Plus there’s a neighbor girl and some swordplay and possibly a dragon…it’s imaginative and fun and sensitive to its characters. It ends a bit abruptly and feels very much like a first installment, but I look forward to reading the next.

The Nameless City by Faith Erin Hicks

Faith Erin Hicks is another graphic novel creator I consider a double threat. I liked both Brain Camp and Friends With Boys (the latter was a 2012 Cybils winner I helped choose as a round 2 judge). I thought the concept of The Nameless City was really intriguing – a fictional city reminiscent of feudal China that is conquered every 20 years or so by a different group of people due to its strategic location. The two main characters each belong to a separate group – one a member of the conquering, the other a member of the conquered. The characters feel real and the art is expressive and lovely, as is always the case with Hicks’ work. That said, Angie Manfredi brought up some thoughtful points about the problematic aspects of the book’s premise and execution, thoughts echoed by another of our round 2 judges. These points are worth considering as we (particularly white and non-Asian) readers absorb stories like these, which draw inspiration from cultures that are not our own.

Compass South by Hope Larson and Rebecca Mock

I really enjoyed this story of a pair of identical twins whose adoptive father has gone missing (presumed dead) and decide to impersonate another man’s missing twin sons, who also happen to have red hair, in order to benefit from his wealth. There are a couple of problems: they’re in New York and the man is in San Francisco, and these twins are a girl and a boy named Cleo and Alex. This is a historical adventure set in the 1860s that involves stowing away on a ship, gangs of street kids, mysterious artifacts, another pair of twins pulling the same con, reluctant cross-dressing, and hints of lost pirate treasure. There’s also a significant amount of emotional heft to the really fun storyline: the relationship between Cleo and Alex is fraught but loving, and their friendship with the other set of twins they meet – who have different motivations for their con entirely – adds another layer. Mock’s art is clean, colorful, and expressive. I’ll definitely be reading the sequel.

Princess Princess Ever After by Katie O’Neill

I love this book to pieces. It’s more on the elementary side than the middle grade side – a bit shorter, a bit more simplistic than the others on the shortlist. It’s a sort of retelling of Rapunzel, but this time it’s a headstrong black princess, Amira, who rescues a white princess, Sadie, in the tower. They then go on a series of fun, small adventures, culminating in a bigger adventure where they confront the person who put Sadie in the tower in the first place. And yes, they fall in love, and there’s a sweet lesbian wedding in the epilogue, where the two girls are now adults and have accomplished much in their lives – and have come back to each other to live happily ever after. The mini adventures are cute and funny, subverting gender roles along the way (including the proscribed role of men in traditional fairy tales), and the ending is a joy and a gift. (One note: Sadie is frequently described as fat, and refers to herself this way too, but another judge pointed out the art doesn’t do a great job of depicting her this way, which is true. So, there’s definitely a body positivity message, but whether it’s executed successfully or not is up for debate.)

Bera the One-Headed Troll by Eric Orchard

Bera finds a human baby one day and decides to save its life, when all the other creatures in the land of trolls would like it dead, or to use it for their own ends. In her quest to return it to its parents in the land of humans, she encounters all manner of creatures who pose a threat to either Bera or the baby – or both. This is a cute, imaginative story, but ultimately I found it mostly forgettable. That is partly due to the art, which is mostly browns and grays (I wish it had all been colored like the cover). It fits the mood of the story but also feels a bit repetitive. Worth a read, but not my favorite.

For reviews of titles on the Young Adult shortlist, see this post.

Cybils 2016 – Young Adult Graphic Novels

February 22, 2017 |

In case you missed it, the winners of the 2016 Cybils were announced on February 14! I loved both of our winners selected for the Graphic Novels categories this year: Lowriders to the Center of the Earth by Cathy Camper and Raul the Third (Elementary/Middle Grade) and March: Book Three by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell (Young Adult). Since I was a Round 2 judge, I couldn’t discuss my thoughts on each finalist as I read them – but now that the winners have been revealed, I’m free to do so. This week, I’ll talk about the Young Adult shortlist and next week, the Elementary/Middle Grade one.

Dare to Disappoint: Growing Up in Turkey by Ozge Samanci

Samanci’s graphic memoir tells of her childhood in Turkey in the 80s and 90s, a time of great political strife in the country. It’s a fascinating backdrop for Samanci’s own coming of age. She struggles to fit in, to please her parents, to excel in school, to understand her country’s shifting politics, and pursue her dreams – if she can figure out what those are. Teen readers will be interested by the history of Turkey during this time period – a place not much studied in school, but in the news here more recently because of the attempted coup last year – as well as drawn to Samanci’s universal struggles to become an adult and discover who she’s meant to be. Samanci’s art is unique, a hodge podge of cartoonish figures with collage elements that complements much of the humor in the story and provides a foil for the infrequent violence depicted.

Faith Volume 1: Hollywood and Vine by Jody Houser, Francis Portela, and Marguerite Sauvage

Faith is a psiot, which means she has superpowers – ones that enable her to fly and put up a protective shield. She works as a staff writer for a Buzzfeed-type website during the day, in a red wig, and fights off bad guys in her spare time as white-haired Zephyr. The baddies in this volume are aliens with world domination on their minds. It’s not a terribly unique storyline, but Faith is such a great character, I didn’t mind. She’s into lots of different fandoms, which means she drops fun one-liners all the time that readers who love nerd pop culture will love picking up on. She’s one of the few fat superheroes out there, and her body size is never an issue in her heroics – though it’s not a non-issue in the book as a whole. This is a worthy start to a well-written, appealing series that I look forward to reading more of.

Lucky Penny by Ananth Hirsh and Yuko Ota

I thought this was…fine. It’s about a young adult in the more traditional sense of the phrase – it seems like Penny is in her early 20s. She’s kind of terrible at being an adult. She can’t afford rent so she moves into a friend’s storage unit instead. She finds a job at a laundromat where her boss is a twelve year old kid. She’s awful at dating, but that’s okay, because the guy she finds is pretty awful at it too. Penny’s antics are funny for a while, but I soon got annoyed with her. And her life made me feel kind of sad. Perhaps that makes me old.

March: Book Three by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell

So much has been said about this book already, I won’t make my own summary terribly long. This book really is as good as everyone says it is. It’s timely, engrossing, important, and moving, and the art is a terrific complement. I learned so much but never felt like I was reading a textbook or being lectured. Highly deserving of all its accolades.

Monstress Volume 1: Awakening by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

Monstress is a bit tricky to sum up in a pithy one-or-two-sentence synopsis. It’s about a war between two different species (human and arcanic), dark magic, revenge, and a teenage girl with strange powers she doesn’t want or understand. The world-building is complex (matriarchal, multiple different cultures with long histories) and the story isn’t immediately understandable – but stick with it, and you’ll be rewarded. Liu’s storytelling abilities are on full display here, and I loved how creative and intricate her creation is. Takeda’s art is a perfect match – beautiful and dark, with a slight anime influence. All that said…this is not a book for teenagers, despite the age of the protagonist. I don’t doubt many teenagers could handle it, but Image rates it M for mature and it more than earns that designation. The violence is ever-present, bloody, and gory. Children are murdered, bodies are dismembered, and people are sucked of their life essence – and we’re shown the result. There’s occasional nudity and frequent f-bombs as well, but it’s the explicit violence and dark themes that really put this out of the YA range. It’s beyond what I comfortably read as an adult, and I do read adult comics pretty regularly. This is good…but I wouldn’t recommend it to a teenager unless I knew that teen pretty well.

Ms. Marvel Volume 5: Super Famous by G. Willow Wilson, Takeshi Miyazawa, Adriean Alphona, and Nico Leon

I really enjoyed the first volume of Ms. Marvel that I read when it first debuted a few years ago, but I hadn’t kept up with it. No matter – this volume functions well as a starting place for new readers. Kamala Khan is officially an Avenger, which she has to juggle alongside everything else in her life: school, her brother’s upcoming marriage, keeping up her friendships…it’s all a bit much. Plus there’s a new baddie in town in the form of a real estate development company that’s using Ms. Marvel’s image without her permission to push their product! This volume tackles a lot that is relevant to teens’ lives (religion, an overabundance of schoolwork, family and friend obligations) plus some important social issues teens often care about, like gentrification and fat acceptance. Text and art work in tandem to tell a gripping story, and Wilson really has a way with her characters. Even though it had been years since I last read about Kamala, I fell in love with her and her friends all over again instantly.

Trashed by Derf Backderf

Backderf tells a hybrid fiction/nonfiction story about garbage collectors, based on a year in his own life that he spent as one. The nonfiction aspect is definitely stronger than the fiction – Backderf gives his readers lots of great information on how much humans throw away, what kinds of things we throw away, what percentage gets recycled, and where it all ends up. The two primary facts that have stuck with me are 1. landfills weren’t regulated much at all until recently (and even now not so much); and 2. Even though we recycle a greater percentage of our waste now than ever before, we also send more by volume to the landfill than ever before, simply because we generate so much waste. This book will make you want to double down on recycling and discarding less in general. The story itself was so-so for me. Characters didn’t have much personality, there was no real plot (no building action, climax, or resolution), and the main character, who was supposed to be in his late teens or early 20s, looked about 45.

Book Club Roundup

February 15, 2017 |

I’ve been a librarian for seven years, but I had never been a member of a book club until I joined one late last year. The idea of being assigned a book to read – one that probably wouldn’t be a fantasy or romance novel – was just too much like school for my tastes. But in the past few years, I’ve been consciously trying to expand the range of my leisure reading, and I’ve discovered I like lots of different kinds of books I never would have picked up on my own. The books selected for this particular book club have been pretty eclectic, which I appreciate. They’ve also all been adult titles so far, so it gets me away from my steady diet of YA SFF, something I’ve found I really need.

Here are brief reviews of the first four books I’ve read as part of the club.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

Though fiction, this book read a lot like a memoir to me. It’s not a traditional story in that it doesn’t build to a climax and a resolution – it’s more a straightforward relation of the events of a girl’s life up until around age 16. Elena narrates in the first person, and the friend of the title is Lila, a girl who seems more like what we’d call a frenemy nowadays for much of the book. Set in Naples, Italy, in the 1950s, this book is fascinating for its historical detail (the author herself is Italian) and the complicated relationship between Elena and Lila. Ferrante’s Naples in the 50s is unromanticized: it’s violent, misogynistic, poor, and overall a tough place to grow up. The mystery surrounding Ferrante’s identity adds another layer of interest to this novel.

Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

I love Atwood’s science fiction. Oryx and Crake, which I first read as an undergrad, is my favorite of hers. I hoped I would love this historical novel about a real-life teenage murderess in Canada in the 19th century almost as much. While Atwood’s layered writing is on full display here, I found the plot itself a bit plodding. The story centers on Grace Marks, a woman who was convicted many years ago, while still a teenager, for the murder of her boss and his housekeeper. Grace was a maid in Thomas Kinnear’s house and was sentenced to die alongside her alleged co-conspirator, but her sentence was commuted to life in prison. She served some time in a mental institution as part of her sentence as well. Now, she is considered a model prisoner, and a young doctor has come to speak with her to research her case. Atwood expertly gets us inside the head of this doctor, Simon Jordan, but deliberately keeps us at a distance from Grace, who narrates part of her own story. She is an unreliable narrator – or is she? Atwood explores mental illness and its historical treatment, the Canadian criminal justice system, and society’s perception of women (particularly violent women) in this novel which provides no real answer to the most pressing question – did Grace do it? Because of the plot’s ambiguity, this is a great book for discussion.

Alif the Unseen by G. Willow Wilson

I’m a big fan of Wilson’s comic book series Ms. Marvel, so I was pretty happy when this was selected for January. It’s not a perfect novel by any means, but it’s fun and broad in scope and provides lots of fodder for discussion. Wilson, a white convert to Islam, writes in her author’s note that she wanted this book to speak to her three audiences who don’t always overlap: “comic book geeks, literary NPR types, and Muslims.” The plot of the story proves this goal, since it features a unique combination of computer hacking, genies from the Quran come to life, devout and non-devout Islamic characters, a white American convert, and a focus on the text and scholarship of the Quran that both Islamic and non-Islamic readers can understand. The pacing was slow at times, but overall this was a really fun, unique book.

The Girl in the Road by Monica Byrne

This was my pick, so it’s no surprise that it’s the one I’ve liked best so far. It’s science fiction set in the near future and follows two different characters. Meena, a young woman, is traveling from India to Ethiopia along something called the Trail, a futuristic piece of technology that harvests energy from the sun and the waves of the Arabian Sea. It’s not meant for walking – it’s forbidden to walk along it, actually – but Meena travels it regardless. Mariama, a prepubescent girl, is also traveling to Ethiopia, but her reasons are very different from Meena’s. Their stories converge in a surprising and satisfying way at the end, and part of the fun of reading the book is puzzling out their relationship along the way. I loved reading about the Trail and how Meena survived on it (it’s not easy). I also loved that this was set entirely in Asia and Africa, two continents I don’t read much about in my fiction. Byrne is a white woman, but her details about the cultures and the landscapes appear well-researched, and the near-future setting is well-realized. Her characters are fascinating, if not truly likeable by the end. This is literary science fiction that also provides a lot to talk about.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

February 8, 2017 |

I’ve only ever read one other Jane Austen book (Pride and Prejudice, unsurprisingly). I chose Persuasion next based pretty much on the age of the main character: 27, older than all of Austen’s other heroines. I liked the idea of the two leads reconnecting after several years apart, of how a very young love could have developed, changed, and strengthened over those years. Persuasion is a story about a mistake made while young that is rectified later on; it’s about how we change, but there are some parts of us that remain the same.

Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth fell in love when Anne was nineteen and Frederick was a 20-something naval officer. Anne is persuaded by one of her mentor-friends Lady Russell that a match with Frederick is not suitable for a person in her station, and she breaks it off. She regrets it for the next eight years, when Frederick reappears, now a captain. They reconnect because Frederick’s sister is a tenant at Kellynch Hall, Anne’s family’s home, which is being rented out in order to save the Elliots from financial ruin.

Like Pride and Prejudice, much is communicated between Anne and Frederick without words. There are looks and gestures, each subject to interpretation and misinterpretation, and each is unsure whether the other feels the same as they did eight years ago. Frederick is still smarting from Anne’s rejection, wondering if she is weak of character, to be persuaded so easily. Of course, as he becomes reacquainted with her, he finds himself just as much in love with her as before. Anne, too, harbors her doubts – could Frederick forgive her for her mistake? Could he still love her?

We as readers are never in doubt of the happy ending, but getting there is a treat. Austen’s ancillary characters are hilarious here. I loved all of their conversations about what type of person makes the best tenant, whether being in the navy (or any profession) ages men prematurely, and how men and women each think of romantic love. Anne’s sister Mary is particularly funny, unintentionally on her part, as she is somewhat of a hypochondriac and a complainer and no one is particularly happy to spend much time with her. She always seems to be around, though, because not inviting her along would be rude, even if she wouldn’t enjoy the occasion anyway. We all know this person.

What really makes this book, though, is a letter from Frederick to Anne near the end. It beats any letter or speech in Pride and Prejudice and whenever I want a pick me up, I re-read it and place my hand over my heart and sigh. Quite literally. I’ve reproduced it for you below so you can do the same if you so desire.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.

Is there anything more romantic than “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope”? I am hopeless sometimes.