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Because I Am Furniture, Thalia Chaltas

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It’s tough to find a book that takes on a challenging issue relevant to teens and manages to twist it from what could be a trite retelling to a new, imaginative, and fresh take. Thalia Chaltas in Because I Am Furniture is successful, though, in her story about an abusive father.

Because I Am Furniture is told in verse and follows Anke as she witnesses the physical, mental, verbal, and sexual abuse of her brother, mother, sister, and friend. Anke is spared nearly all of this abuse because she is space taker in the family, and that is all — she is, as the title states, furniture in the family. Her father is an abuser and because of the fear that her family has in furthering his anger, they do not report him nor speak about the terror he causes. That is, until Anke witnesses a girl with whom she is friendly come under the power of her father’s abuse. When Anke is told that nothing will stop her father, she knows that because of her role as the family furniture, she can use that as her power to change the family’s situation for the better.

Imaginatively and creatively told through verse, Because I Am Furniture broaches many difficult teen topics from the perspective of an outsider. The verse enhances this perspective, as it is just descriptive enough and sparse enough to leave the reader wanting something to happen but ultimately understanding the feeling of helplessness. Chaltas is spot on in her storytelling, and she paces the story perfect. The book is a quick read, but it is not a fast enough read at the expense of the story and the emotion. This is the type of story that a reader will sit down with and go cover to cover with in one sitting.

Because I Am Furniture would be a fantastic companion novel for any of the novels about abuse or rape available, including Halse Anderson’s Speak. What makes this book stand out from the crowd is not only its imaginative and thoughtful use of verse rather than traditional narrative style, but also the important lessons that can be learned from Anke, including the lessons she learns about the importance of all people in a family. This is the sort of book that will resonate with readers and could inspire them to better themselves by not being afraid of being who they are. Anke goes from furniture and accepting her lot as such to learning how important she is as an individual in all of the varied roles she plays in her life within and outside her family.

Unreliable Narrators

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I started listening to the next Amelia Peabody book – The Hippopotamus Pool – a few days ago. It started out a little differently than the previous books. Instead of Amelia diving right in to the narrative without much preamble, the “editor” of Mrs. Amelia Peabody Emerson’s personal diaries sprinkled her own commentary via footnotes throughout a rather lengthy introduction by Mrs. Emerson herself that recounted the major events of the previous books. It served a dual purpose: catch the reader (or listener, as in my case) up to speed on the pertinent events of the previous books that would impact the events of the current one, and make us laugh. Take this passage:

Text: “The date of my birth is irrelevant. I did not truly exist until 1884, when I was in my late twenties.”

Footnote: “This is not consistent with other sources. However, the editors were of the opinion it would be discourteous to question a lady’s word.”

The “other source” the editor refers to is in fact the first novel in the series, when Miss Peabody tells her readers that she is thirty-two years old in 1884. The editor points out other inconsistencies throughout the introduction, and they all made me grin. While I love Amelia all the more for it, it also made me wonder…exactly how much should I take her at her word? Is her dashing husband really all that dashing, or is he only dashing when seen through her eyes? (Isn’t the latter much more romantic anyway?) It helps that the editor is voiced by Davina Porter, who is one of my top five favorite audiobook narrators.

A few other famous unreliable narrators include Dr. Sheppard from Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and Briony Tallis from Ian McEwan’s Atonement. I have varying levels of tolerance and appreciation for stories with unreliable – or outright dishonest – narrators, and it depends on the purpose of the character being written in such a way. With Amelia, it’s done for comedic effect, and I love it. In Atonement, it seems as if Ian McEwan did it to make me cry (it worked). Oh, and to bring up all those fancy meta-fiction issues while he’s at it. I thought it was brilliant, and it helped lessen my antagonistic feelings toward Briony. (I also thought the movie adaptation was just as good as the book, a quality that is very rare.) I can just imagine Dame Agatha patting herself on the back and grinning slyly when she first devised the events of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. I’m still undecided on whether I believe what she did was a genius move or a dirty cheat. Then again, it can be argued that fiction needs to be related by a less than honest narrator in order for the fiction to be honest at all, another one of those true oxymorons.

If you’re interested in reading books with a narrator who may not be entirely trustworthy, check out the three I’ve mentioned above and the few below:

Odd Thomas, by Dean Koontz
Odd Thomas (not short for Todd) is a twenty year old fry cook who sees dead people. It’s much better and much less creepy than the Sixth Sense, and Odd as a narrator is engaging, likable, and honest – usually. In the first installment (it became so popular it blossomed into a series), Odd must stop some very bad men from perpetrating something horrible upon his small California town. Unless you have a cold cold heart, the ending will make you cry.

The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, by Jon Scieszka
I outgrew picture books very early on in my reading life, but this is one that I returned to many times. Scieszka is just so clever with everything he writes. Here, Alexander T. Wolf sets the record straight – he was not an evildoer who huffed and puffed, he simply had a very bad cold. And the pigs were rude anyway. Telling classic stories from the point of view of the “bad guy” has always been popular, but no one has done it better than Scieszka.

The Banned and the Banished, by James Clemens
You probably haven’t heard of this series. I don’t blame you if you haven’t – it’s a fantasy that is typical of its genre, with a lot of magic, black-hearted villains, and young good-looking heroes. It’s the kind of stuff that I just eat up. The editor prefaces each book with a notice that everything you will be reading is false, the author of the book is a traitor, and in order to even be allowed to read his/her lies, you must be an advanced scholar, put your thumbprint on the page, and swear to tell no one what you have read. It’s up to you to determine which person – the editor or the author – is the unreliable one. This aspect of the series is what hooked me, although it tells a very entertaining story too.

While searching Goodreads and Librarything for books tagged as unreliable narrators, I came across James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces. Two Librarything users had tagged this nonfiction book, now notorious for its falseness, as having an unreliable narrator. I suppose in the strictest meaning of the phrase, it’s true. But there’s a sense with fiction that it’s okay for the writer to deceive us – it’s not the writer who’s doing the deceiving anyway, is it? The deceitful one is the narrator, who we all learn in grade school English classes is a separate entity from the author. So perhaps I should give Christie a free pass after all – Dr. Sheppard is the one who pulled the wool over my eyes.

What’s your take? Do you like reading books with unreliable narrators, or would you prefer it if the narrator just told it to you straight? Did you want to strangle Christie after she so blatantly and inexcusably broke one of the primary rules of detective fiction? What are some other books with unreliable narrators that I should check out?

The Oxford Project, Stephen G. Bloom and Peter Feldstein

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I won’t lie: The Oxford Project appealed to me initially for two reasons. First, I heard about it because it received an Alex award from the American Library Association this year, and second, upon researching the title following that nugget of information, I found out it was set in a town about 30 minutes southwest from where I went to college.

Bloom and Feldstein’s book is a non-fiction photographic exploration of one Iowa town over a generation. Feldstein began the project by taking photos of nearly all 600 residents in 1984. His goal was to capture each of them in their natural state — no fancy clothes, no fancy make up. These photos were put on display in town and turned out to be quite a neat feature for the downtown area and its citizens. Once the exhibits were finished, Feldstein put the project to bed.

A two decades later, Feldstein thought it would be interesting to take their photos again, but this time also ask them about their lives: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the sweet. He and Bloom teamed up for this aspect, and both were incredibly surprised with how honest and forthcoming the citizens of Oxford would be with them.

The Oxford Project is a series of photographs, the original beside the new, as well as a series of vignettes that are a glipse into the lives of the individuals that make up one small town. The stories are raw and are both heartwarming and heartbreaking. There are similar threads running through many of the stories, including the value of working hard, the value of being a good person, and the regret for many who did not attend college (not surprising, as the University of Iowa is a mere 10 miles from Oxford).

This is a very unique book that gives great insight into humanity, into the way our lives change both by choice and by accident, and into how a city can become such a part of who we are as people. For a non-fiction book, this one is engaging because it is steeped heavily into the visual images of ordinary people. I think the American Library Association is spot on with this as an Alex winning title — I would not hesistate to hand this book to a student needing to do a report on a non-fiction book. There will be a story that resonates with each reader, who can see a bit of themselves in each of the people featured in the book. It’s hard to build a book that combines both an artistic vision and a powerful story, but I think that Bloom and Feldstein do a fantastic job of this with The Oxford Project.

If you’re interested in reading it and are on a very, very long waiting list for the book like I have been, be sure to check out the website promoting the book and project here. I’m impressed with not only the project, but the notes the author and photographer include about the lessons they learned in undertaking such a task, including lessons on history and preservation. I almost think their author notes — which are sparse and come only at the beginning and end of the book — are just as worthy of thinking about as the rest of the book.

After the Moment, Garret Freymann-Weyr

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It’s difficult to be a young male in our culture — there really are only a few acceptable stereotypes within which you can fall: the alpha male, the gay male, the sensitive mommy’s boy, the nerd, or the creepy guy. Although we know males are much more than a stereotype, sometimes in growing up, it seems those are a boy’s options for how to live and behave.

In Garret Freymann-Weyr’s After The Moment, we meet Leigh: a guy in his early 20s reflecting back on his last years in high school and considering how he has come of age. Although the story is not about becoming a man in the traditional sense, Freymann-Weyr (a woman, by the way) delineates what it means to grow up and understand pivotal moments in one’s development, particularly where it relates to love.

Leigh is a high school junior, living in New York City with his mother, a romance novelist, when his father Clayton calls to break the news that his new wife Janet’s former husband Seth has died in a terrible accident. This news has not yet been broken to Millie, Janet’s young teenage biological daughter and Leigh’s beloved step sister. It will be Leigh’s job to come down to Maryland and break the news to her, since she adores and admires him more than anyone else in the world.

While he is in town to help Millie come to grips with the news, he meets Millie’s good friend — also a junior — Maia Morland. As you’d expect, Leigh’s got an incredibly attractive girlfriend at home, but he becomes quite entranced with Maia and not for the reasons he adores his girlfriend Aster. Rather, there is something about Maia that speaks to him at a much deeper level. When Millie is beginning to feel more at ease with the loss of her biological father, Leigh returns him only to be asked by Millie and Clayton to consider relocating to Maryland for his senior year to continue helping Millie cope with her loss. After surprisingly little consideration, he jumps at the opportunity.

After The Moment explores the huge amounts of growth and change that happen to Leigh as he begins a relationship with Maia; it’s not a sheerly romantic relationship, but rather a relationship that is about growth, change, and uncertainty. Leigh wrestles with many excruciating decisions during this year, including Maia’s mental health, his role as a protector, and his role as a male living a fear-free life (Leigh spends many pages in this story reflecting upon the Iraq war and the young men his age both fighting in the war and dying and those trying to avoid the war and dying as civilians). As is likely clear as well, Leigh’s also fighting the demons that come with a difficult family structure, a girlfriend in New York and girlfriend of a different sense in Maryland, the values and ethics of love and sex, and plotting a post-high school life.

Throughout the book, I was very impressed with some of the situations that Freymann-Weyr depicted, particularly through the eyes and mindset of a 17 year old male. There was a true depth to this character and he was utterly relatable and sympathetic. As a reader, I felt entirely on his side and began really thinking about how tough it is to be a guy. This same story told through the perspective of a woman wouldn’t be as powerful or thought provoking, even if it was well-written. This is a story of growing up that both males and females will relate to, and it will definitely open up the eyes of females while garnering a sense of understanding from males.

After The Moment was paced well, and the descriptions and scenarios were quite believable, though at times I found some situations contrived or unnecessary — I thought, actually, there were too many uninteresting and inconsequential characters cluttering the story lines that were brought in immediately and then left to sort of fend for themselves in the end. While many readers might find the fact that not one single family was a “healthy, normal” one (everyone had been divorced, remarried, or multiple iterations of either), I think that might be a point of comfort for some. I become quite obsessed with familial structures when reading, and while I initially got mad that there could be no role models of normality in the story, I thought that actually heightened the ability of Leigh to grow as a male. This becomes crystal clear in a final conversation between Leigh and his father.

I found Maia to be a frustrating character throughout the book; the girl had a lot of problems that I felt she could solve for herself. But then I stepped back for a moment and realized that she is the perfect metaphor for what Leigh is dealing with as a male on a daily basis — she needs help and love, and while many could easily dismiss and ignore her and her problems, he found her absolutely worthwhile. Quite a way to parallel the ideas about the Iraq war and the future!

Overall, I was incredibly impressed with Freymann-Weyr’s After The Moment and believe that it is the perfect book for the older set of teens. The story is set up as a flashback, with Leigh and Maia in their early 20s reflecting on their 17 and 18 year old lives. Although the book will be marketed for those 14 and over, I think that the real audience will be those between 16 and 26. There is a real sense of connection from both ends.

This is not your typical romance book, so while girls who like romances may swoon for Leigh and this one, I think that this could be sold to guys. I think it should be sold to guys, actually. After The Moment breaks stereotypes and bends the artificial rules in such a manner that males may find themselves feeling more confident about how they act and think. I think Leigh will be relatable — he loves soccer, he has a tough family life, and he doesn’t deny enjoying sex — but he’s much more complex than that. I think there is still a bit of a lag in the young adult literature that bulks guys up as much more than just their personal interests. This one is a definite in that arena. I am eager to see what the reception is for both males and females.

After The Moment will be available from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt press May 17. I was able to pick up a copy at a conference, and I’m very glad to have had the opportunity to read it. Keep your eyes peeled for a GIVEAWAY of this book from us very soon.

Double Helix by Nancy Werlin

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Double Helix, by Nancy Werlin, is a mystery-thriller about modern-day scientific advancement and the ethical price humanity pays when trying to play God. While it’s a page-turner with an engaging protagonist, the ground it treads is a bit too familiar.

Eli Samuels is about to graduate from high school. Despite his father’s protestations, he refuses to think about college. It’s not because Eli doesn’t think he’s smart enough (he’s the smartest kid in his year), or because he doesn’t like to learn. His mother has Huntington’s Disease, and caring for her has eaten up all of the family’s money. Eli knows his father can’t afford to send him to college, so why bother with the charade of filling out applications?

On the night that Eli’s father finally realizes his son hasn’t applied anywhere, Eli has a bit too much to drink, sends off an email to none other than Dr. Quincy Wyatt, geneticist and head of Wyatt Transgenics, and asks him for a job. To Eli’s embarrassment, Dr. Wyatt does not simply delete the email, and instead asks to see him. Unbelievably, he hires Eli as a lab assistant, a job that normally goes to someone with a college degree. Eli’s excited to be working with a man who is regarded as a genius in the biogenetic field, a man who seems intent on mentoring him, a man with whom he doesn’t have to hold back when discussing scientific matters. Eli has always felt his brain is a handicap, and it’s refreshing to talk with someone whose intellect not only matches his, but surpasses it. Moreover, the work Dr. Wyatt is doing with DNA – the work Eli himself would be doing – could change the world.

Eli’s father does not share his excitement. Barely on speaking terms with his son, he begs Eli in a letter not to take the job. He can’t tell Eli why, he just asks that Eli trust him. Bit by bit, Eli finds out just why his father is so adamant about avoiding Dr. Wyatt and what Dr. Wyatt’s research has to do with his family. He also discovers something shocking about himself.

Double Helix reminds me a lot of Mary Pearson’s The Adoration of Jenna Fox. However, I thought Adoration was more tightly written with a more surprising plot and a more satisfying payoff. I was never surprised or shocked by the events of Double Helix; I expected the final revelation and was disappointed there wasn’t more to it. The payoff at the end is what makes or breaks these bioethics mystery-thrillers. Double Helix‘s just didn’t pack enough punch.

Werlin has created a very three-dimensional character in Eli. His actions are a mixture of frustrating, disappointing, and laudatory, just as a teenager’s actions generally are. Even when I wanted to shake him for his treatment of those he loved, I could understand. By the end of the book, he had grown considerably. Werlin is able to pull off an authentic teenage male voice, something I’ve seen female young adult authors struggle with sometimes. That said, I still don’t feel the characterization was as strong in Eli as it was in Jenna. In all fairness, this may be because Jenna’s situation demanded more character growth. I loved Adoration so much that it seems unfair to constantly compare Double Helix to it. Werlin’s book was still a great read and I enjoyed every minute of it.

I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Double Helix to teens interested in reading a good mystery or thriller. It’s quick, exciting, well-written, and the science behind the plot is spelled out in plain English so most teens won’t have a hard time understanding it. The ethical questions it raises are important and timely, even if they have been raised by numerous other authors before. (It’s worth mentioning that Werlin does have firm answers to the questions her book asks, and many readers may not agree with them. But then what is the point of reading if we are only fed what we already believe?) For readers who haven’t read many books about this topic, it’s a great starting place. It might spur them on to finding more of this subgenre. For someone such as myself who devours stories like these, it seemed a bit “been there, done that.” There are more inventive books out there.