STACKED

books

Back Home by Julia Keller

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When I was in college, I majored in Psychology. I’ve always had a fascination with the brain and how it works, so when I saw this new title out by Julia Keller, a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. I was very excited to read it. In addition to a story about brain injury, Back Home delves into the contemporary issue of the Iraq War and its impact on families — a topic not quite explored in depth just yet.

Rachel knew something was wrong when her mother sat her, her sister and her little brother down on the couch to talk about their dad. Rachel’s mind ran with the inevitable: her dad was dead.

Dad was a member of the National Guard and had been sent to Iraq. Rachel had the suspicion it could end with his being killed, but it turns out that that may have been easier to deal with. Dad hadn’t been killed, but instead, he sustained a major brain injury and lost a leg and an arm.
It would be a few months before dad would come home, as they were treating him at a national army hospital and giving him therapy to try to resume his normal life.
Upon returning, though, things did not go as planned – because of the massive brain injury, Rachel’s dad had many more challenges ahead of him than she and her family were led to believe.

Back Home is an incredibly powerful story about a family coping with the physical effects of war on a family member. Julia Keller has written many articles about brain injury and the Iraq war, and her expertise is clear in this story. This is not a happily-ever-after book, nor does it pretend to be. It’s an utterly realistic, terrifying, and sad look at the lives of those who are unable to resume life as they knew it before going to war. One of the most memorable and poignant moments occurs when Rachel reflects on the term “vegetable” and what it means in relation to a human being — painful but touching.

I felt like Keller had a lot of characters in the story, and while this was problematic to me as a reader to distinguish among these people, I also felt like it was almost necessary: many of those characters played a real ancillary role in Rachel’s life making them simply a cast to her. But moreover, it almost allowed us as outsiders to feel like her father and his understanding of familiar and not. Additionally, I really wanted a little more to the story, but knowing how important this issue is, I’m not disappointed.

A number of reviews I read on this title were quick to judge it as a “message” novel or one useful for bibliotherapy. While I don’t disagree that there’s a message here or that this book will make an excellent one to hand to someone dealing with a similar issue, I think this is short changing the novel and story itself. There’s a nice metaphor throughout the book about building a fort that goes deeper into a story than into a problem, and I believe that Rachel is constructed strongly enough to be a character rather than an idea. I think much of this may stem from this being a new topic in the YA literature realm and because of Keller’s staccato journalistic writing style. I think going into this believing it is only one thing detracts from the greater story.

So few books explore these issues without getting political, but this is one that manages to stay focused on the issue of brain injury. I found the ending particularly touching and realistic, and I am very eager to see what Keller writes next. Her style is very journalistic, so don’t expect a pretty story; it’s the facts.

*Disclosure: I was informed if I gave a good review to a book, I had to disclose if it came from the publisher. I like to think my reviews are critical enough to make it clear that I’m actually reading to review and not reading to get free stuff. Indeed, I’m almost offended I have to disclose that I got an advanced copy of this title because the reality is I read EVERYTHING critically and am not afraid to share my insights.
I would like to thank Edgmont, though, for providing me this fantastic book. I am eager to share this one with my teens who may be experiencing similar things or know others who are.

Pretty Dead, by Francesca Lia Block

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Pretty Dead was my first Francesca Lia Block, and I was completely blown away by the way she writes. The beautiful words are what make this book worth reading. I think it’s pretty safe to say that Block could write about grass growing and I would be entranced.

Luckily for us, Block chose not to write about her front lawn and instead focused her attentions on the unceasingly popular theme of vampires. Charlotte Emerson is a vampire who lives in modern day Los Angeles. Like most vampires in teen literature, she’s anguished. She chose to become a vampire after the death of her twin brother, Charles, and she’s since realized that this was a mistake. She broke it off long ago with her maker and lover, William, but he’s returned to haunt her. Meanwhile, Charlotte’s friend Emily has died in an apparent suicide and Charlotte is growing ever closer to Emily’s boyfriend, Jared. To top it all off, Charlotte has begun to realize that her perfectly immortal body is going through some very mortal changes.

Many of the people whose reviews I have read of Pretty Dead seem to be disappointed with the book. Much of the criticism I’ve read stems from the fact that Pretty Dead is about vampires, and vampires are just oh so in with the teens nowadays. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know this is true, but what drew me to the book was the twist Block put on the traditional vampire myth – Charlotte the vampire is slowly becoming human. The story explores why and how this might be happening. Beyond that, Pretty Dead also explores the intense loneliness and isolation that accompanies immortality. Charlotte’s life is initially glamorous, especially to her human friends Emily and Jared, but Block forces us to see that such an eternal life is far from desirable. This is very different from the vampire books out there that romanticize the immortal life (while simultaneously pretending to demonize it).

Kelly also pointed out to me that the book seems pretty anti-feminist, with Charlotte’s motivations stemming mostly from a desire to please the men in her life. I can see where people might make this argument, since much of what Charlotte does is determined by her feelings for her brother or her ex-lover, but I think the addition of Emily provides a more complex female relationship that also significantly influences Charlotte’s actions. Long after I finished the book and had figured out Charlotte’s relationships with the men, I was left pondering the meaning behind her relationship with Emily.

Pretty Dead was a great introduction to Francesca Lia Block. It’s a short novel on a popular theme and has given me a taste of the wondrous things Block can do with words. I really cannot say enough about Block’s talent with the English language. In my dreams where I am a published author, I write with the beauty, power, and intensity of Francesca Lia Block. I will definitely be picking up her other books.

One last note: I really really dislike the cover. Aside from the fact that it seems like a blatant ripoff of the True Blood poster, it does not evoke the mood that Block’s words do. The cover makes the story seem salacious, soapy, gossipy. Perhaps this is a good thing for teens who are already hooked on anything vampire, but for those readers looking for something different from the usual vampire story, the cover is not going to make them pick this one up. That’s too bad, because the prose is just so, so achingly beautiful.

Double Take, Part XVI

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The last post was wordy, so this one’s just a double take. If you like these posts, you’re in luck, as I’ve got a wealth stocked up right now! In this edition, we’ve got a book that’s been out for a couple of years and one that will be coming out.

Safe by Susan Shaw was published in October 2007 by Dutton. I love the orange against the black.

Lifted by Wendy Toliver isn’t out yet but will be published by Simon Pulse in June 2010. Obviously the cropping’s different, but it’s the same stock image. Although I think it works as well as it does for Safe, there’s a part of me hoping this gets changed. Having the same exact cover, along with a very similar use of location for title will get so confusing for not only readers but those who serve them.

Do you think one’s better than the other?

Oh, one of our readers, Terry, pointed out this one, too:

Everything is Fine by Ann Dee Ellis was published March 2009 by Little Brown. It’s a little too psychedelic for my tastes….

A Dying Cause

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Suicide is a morbidly (oops) fascinating topic for people — it’s something that we simply don’t understand and it’s something that affects everyone surrounding the people who do decide to go through with it. About 5,000 teenagers do it each year, and it is the second leading cause of death for those between the ages of 14 and 25 — Livestrong can give you more terrifying statistics if you’re interested. Many teens have been impacted by it somehow, so it’s not a surprise that it’s been making an appearance throughout teen literature in the last couple of years (and even before that).

2009 brought at least two such titles, including Nina LaCour’s Hold Still (Dutton, 10/2009). Caitlin’s best friend Ingrid killed herself at the end of last school year; for Caitlin, this was a summer to mourn before needing to step back into a routine at school that would now have a huge void.

Throughout the story, Ingrid’s diary is a device for communicating her thoughts with Caitlin. Ingrid left no note nor explanation but instead shared her feelings on other life experiences. As a reader you can pick up the pieces little by little, but you will not walk away with a solid understanding. Instead, the story is told from Caitlin’s point of view — her mourning and her attempts at resuming her own life.

As the year progresses, as indicated by changing seasons in the book (starting with the summer after, then fall, winter, and spring), Caitlin begins to experience the things like a normal teenager again. She develops a friendship with a new girl that as readers we understand begins tenuously out of fear of loss, and she also begins exploring a romantic relationship. But all is not well, of course. Caitlin’s grades are slipping, particularly in a photography class that where she had met Ingrid before. The teacher constantly talks about how her and Ingrid were a pair but that Caitlin needs to grow her own talent and self now. This is hard when Ingrid’s work is immortalized on the walls, of course.

Hold Still is an interesting exploration of suicide from a best friend’s perspective, but I’m going to be honest and say it felt inauthentic. I’m no expert in understanding how suicide feels from a best friend’s perspective, but I can say that I’ve been in high school when a very popular student took his life. There was not an immortalizing of the student, and in fact, faculty was upfront and honest in avoiding the issue. There was no memorial nor fascination with them. While friends had the opportunity to mourn and seek counseling, the issue was something the school felt was not appropriate to “celebrate.” Likewise, it seemed to me that no one in the story was angry. It seemed that the characters actually felt only one or two emotions, and there was not much wrestling with feelings. Caitlin had one angry outburst, but perhaps what left me a little unsure was Ingrid’s parents at the end of the story — they were almost too accepting and, frankly, blase about their daughter’s selfishness and desperation.

Personally, this book was a mixed bag. It didn’t delve deeply enough into character, as Caitlin to me seemed hollow. Although I believe this is the case because of her situation, I felt in discussions of her prior to Ingrid’s suicide that she still didn’t have any interests, passions, or feelings. The diary was a bit too much of a safety device in the story that took us away from the graveness of the situation and instead gave Ingrid a voice and personality. This made it too hard to be angry or frustrated with her, since she seemed so sincere. Too many times I believed that Ingrid was rational enough to get help, and though I know it’s not that simple, I just didn’t feel a connection between her and me or her and Caitlin. Likewise, her parents and the art teacher really made me insane. To me it seemed the adults were written too much as teenagers. And as alluded to before, many of the situations about how the school reacted just weren’t realistic from my experiences. A little research would have really made this book that much stronger.

That said, Hold Still will resonate with teen readers. As an adult who can reflect back on my experiences, I felt it fell flat of some real potential. But with the number of teens who probably live Caitlin’s story, this will be a comforting book to read. The lack of anger or discussion of Ingrid’s mental state and actions was frustrating, but perhaps this side of emotion will really impact someone. It can also be a potential wake up call to those ever considering this plan of exit. I’m excited to see what LaCour does next, as this was her first novel.

Five Minutes More by Darlene Ryan was also released this year (Orca Books, 04/09). If you know anything about the Orca series, it’s a publisher interested in fast-moving stories that target reluctant readers. This one was a quick mover.

D’Arcy’s dad has killed himself. He used to always say that anything could be solved by just “five minutes more,” a mantra that gets repeated throughout the book. But as we discover, D’Arcy’s dad could not live with Lou Gehrig’s disease for five minutes more and instead, chose to drive his car off a bridge and end his life.

Told through seasons, much like Hold Still, we see D’Arcy become a figure who removes herself from her life. Her budding relationship with Seth waxes and wanes, her grades drop dramatically, and she begins getting involved with drinking and smoking — something she’d never do if it weren’t for her father’s death.

Unlike Hold Still, as a reader we feel entirely distanced from D’Arcy and her relationships in Five Minutes More. To be entirely honest, I don’t remember much emotional discussion from D’Arcy; her feelings were acted upon and out for the reader. She broke many items in a way that felt quite authentic with her anger, but it seemed to me this was a strategy used a bit too much to give readers insight into her mind. For me, I wasn’t able to stand the thought of her breaking anything else, but thinking in context of the audience for this title (and this author), I think this is a story that reluctant readers will appreciate since there is NOT a lot of dwelling on emotions. Things happen instead.

Again, I’m not an expert on this topic, but this title also felt inauthentic to me as a reader. The voices were not quite there enough, and none of the characters seemed to be talking like people of their own age/experience. But then again, I’m not a teenager and thus cannot believe that there won’t be many who really see themselves in D’Arcy. What I did appreciate about this title was that it took a risk — it’s NOT just teenagers who take their lives. Ryan chose to have her adult character take his life and take it for a very different reason than a teenager: disease. I felt compelled to keep reading, though I was disappointed in an abrupt ending without any sort of closure. I’m sure this is intentional. I felt, though, her romantic relationship did not develop enough over the course of three seasons to make it an essential element of the story. I wondered what purpose it served since it didn’t have enough power in the story to even be brought up at the end.

I liked D’Arcy as a character a little more than I liked Caitlin, perhaps because D’Arcy felt like a real character, more fleshed out than Caitlin. I also actually liked D’Arcy’s dad in this one; by that I mean, I really wanted to know more about him and his challenges with Lou Gehrig’s disease. I did not feel that way about Ingrid.

Finally, what book discussion about suicide would be complete without at least making a mention of Jay Asher’s unbelievably popular title Thirteen Reasons Why (Razorbill, 10/07).

Like Hold Still, this book is held together with a plot device, namely a set tapes that Clay Jensen receives following the suicide of classmate Hannah Baker. He’s one of thirteen people to get this set of tapes that describes exactly what things people did or said that pushed Hannah over the edge. The story’s told through Hannah’s voice on the tape and Clay’s voice as he visits all of the people and places that impacted Hannah.

What Thirteen Reasons Why does that neither Hold Still nor Five Minutes More do is emphasize the impact that small things can have on a person. More generally, I felt like Hannah’s voice brought out the point that there are so many things that go into people’s decisions to take their lives. It’s not a simple thing or two but generally the accumulation of many issues. It’s not simple and it can’t be understood.

It’s been over a year since I read this one, so I had to pull up my review to see what I said initially, which was simple: well-crafted, insightful, consistent, and gripping.

All of this is to say that the teen fiction genre is full of titles that tackle this very complicated issue and each title takes the issue in a slightly different way. As such, there is going to be a title that resonates with a reader who will tackle the grief and lack of understanding that comes along with suicide in a way similar to one of these — or the other titles in this area. Although the word bibliotherapy bothers me, I believe these are the sorts of books we should know as tools for helping those struggling with the issue of suicide, both from the perspective of the person who is considering taking their life and the people who have been impacted by such a loss.

We will never truly know what is going on nor why things like this happens, but we can explore it as deeply and widely as possible to have a support system. Besides people, books are support; when you consider that each of these characters withdraws into themselves, then you know that a book can be a companion during those times of isolation.

Have you read any other similar titles or any of these? What are your takes on them? It’s a fascinating topic that deserves exploration, and kudos to each and every one of these authors for doing it the best they can.

National Book Award winner

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My goal WAS to read all 5 of the NBA nominated books in Young People’s Literature before yesterday’s announcement, but I am going to admit that Charles and Emma was too intimidating. I never got to it, even though it sat innocently (beggingly) on my shelf for weeks. I think I’m still a little burned out on Darwin thanks to it being around a lot this year (see Calpurnia Tate)

That said, this year’s winner was Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice. As you recall, I liked this one, but I didn’t predict it as the winner (Janssen, on the other hand, thought this would be the one).

Even being nominated for the NBA is a big deal, since it gets your title a lot more attention, and I think that that alone is worthwhile. As more and more books get published in the teen world, having these committees notice a title helps, even if it’s not always a title that will see huge popularity or circulation. Why? It’s a great opportunity to think about the factors that make good books good books to an awards committee (which you generally do not understand or have inner knowledge of) but more importantly, it’s an opportunity to think about the factors you personally hold important in judging books. Appeal is important to me, but so is an important story, and I think Claudette Colvin definitely hit the mark there. I hope that this award will help get the book into classrooms and hands of students interested in American Civil Rights history. I know it gave me a lot more knowledge and interest in the topic.