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books

Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan

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Ever read a book and when you begin it you cringe thinking you already know how disappointing it will be? Well, I will say that’s how I felt when I opened Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan — it was my first book by him and well, the topic of 9/11 was one that I just don’t think can be done well just yet. Maybe never. But I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Love is the Higher Law takes its name from one of my all time favorite songs, “One,” by U2. The story, told from three alternating perspectives, begins on the morning of 9/11 in New York City. Each of the three main characters — Claire, Jasper, and Peter — takes turns telling where they were and what was going on. I immediately connected with Claire because she was only a year older than I was when 9/11 happened. Although our moments in time were quite different, I just felt a connection with her that really helped me relate to the story.

This isn’t a simple story of the day of 9/11. Levithan does a really great job of connecting the characters to one another because as much as this is a story of alternating perspectives, it’s ultimately the story of one experience and one “being” — how we ALL relate to one another, and how we all related to one another in the moments of 9/11. The story follows the characters in the days following 9/11, as well as six months later and one year later.

Love is the Higher Law is a short book, but it’s mighty powerful. People like me who were aware of what was going on that day and in the days and months following can really connect, but it’s what Levithan writes in his author’s note that makes this book so powerful. He makes note that today’s teenagers were so young when 9/11 happened and just don’t have the stories to connect to. They’ve forever been in a post-9/11 world, and it’s our duty to share our stories so they don’t disappear. As much as we’re all hesitant sometimes to reflect or write about such a historic and defining moment, it’s something we should and have to do to ensure others “get” it.

I think what really struck me the most in this book was the use of U2 as a major thematic element. I think teens, who already have such intimate relationships with music, will connect with the idea that a band or an album can be a powerful instrument of memory and of humanity. As one of those people who absolutely fell in love with All That You Can’t Leave Behind, I really found that Peter’s connection with it is perhaps exactly why I find that to be such a strong album. This kind of defines the book and the historical importance of the entire moment, and it does so in a way that I think anyone can feel and understand. I thought it was an innovative way to develop a theme and plot without making it inaccessible to non-U2 fans or making it a story about one band. It’s much more, but this layer will really click with some readers without leaving others in the dark.

While I read this book quickly, it’s one that I know will stick around. I’d recommend this book to just about anyone because I think it will resonate with all readers. I applaud Levithan for writing it, and I can only hope other authors follow. And the alternating perspectives? Spot on. That’s a rarity.

Let me be fair in saying I had one HUGE criticism, and that would be the last few pages of the book. What made this title great was how apolitical it was. But in the end, Levithan made his political beliefs a little too clear. Moreover, for a book focused on 9/11 as an event and moment, making blatant political criticisms didn’t sit well and, I think, diverged from his ultimate goals. I found it out of place in the book and out of character. I wish he’d left this out — this is one of those issues I feared most in beginning any book on this topic.

Go read this one, please. As much as I’ve read about this book being award-worthy, I’m mixed on that. I feel giving it attention via an award might make teens a bit resistant to reading it (be honest — you slap a book with an award and sometimes that’s the last time it’ll be read), but I feel it also might fall behind other titles because it hasn’t had enough spotlight on it yet. Not to mention the professional journals didn’t give this one a good review, which is a bit short sighted. I just don’t think you can compare this title to Levithan’s others — it was written with an entirely different purpose and goal, and he hits a home run with that intention. Read it for the story and be pleased enough to pick up other books by this author. Don’t read it to compare it to his other books.

Double Take Re-Take

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Remember this double take of two books not even published yet? Alea pointed out that the publisher’s changed the cover now because of it. Here’s the new one:


Kind of interesting, seeing how the two takes on the same cover are radically different. I’m not sure which I like better nor am I sure which one fits better. They’re so different!

Double Take, Part XI

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This one is one you just wouldn’t see unless you spent a little time on Meg Cabot’s blog (which, I’ve yet to read one of her books but wow, her blog was a lot of fun and makes me want to!).


This is the Brazilian cover for Meg’s book Mediator.

Does it at all look familiar to you? Now it’s funny because the cover I’ll post below is one I’ve scratched my head at again and again wondering if it had a double take somewhere.


Indeed it does, though it’s a Brazilian double take (and obviously it’s purple rather than pink). The Dark Divine by Bree Despain will be published in December 2009 by Egmont.

Either way, I like the cover a lot. Both the purple and pink are vibrant against the black and, well, the cover’s memorable!

How to Build a House by Dana Reinhardt

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If you remember my review for Marcelo in the Real World, you’ll know that I had a hard time with the book because I didn’t know the intended audience. For me, intended audience makes a huge difference whether a title is a hit or a miss.

How to Build a House by Dana Reinhardt is one of the books on this year’s Read for a Lifetime list. It’s a concept I think a lot of teen relate to. Harper’s family in Los Angeles is in disarray, and rather than allow herself to be saddened by it all summer, she decides to join a non-religious non-profit program that would allow her to involve herself in a summer-long community service project. More specifically, she’s going to help rebuild a house in Bailey, Tennessee that was destroyed in a major tornado. As someone who’s actually done exactly this, I was so intrigued by the idea and know there are a lot of other people who would love reading about this.

Harper’s dad and step mother are getting a divorce, which is tearing apart the family Harper came to believe was so great. Her sister through the marriage, Tess, was her best friend. Jane, her step mom, was the mother she never had. Things were perfect until her father tore the family apart through an extramarital affair. Harper turned to her best friend Gabriel, who also happened to be a guy she really had a lot of feelings for, and they were mutual feelings. At least that’s what she thought until she saw who Gabriel was kissing one night at a party.

Getting out made sense. And Bailey, Tennessee, was the perfect place to hid out. She’s never going to be known here, and she has no reasons to make any ties. This is the ideal summer project. Oh, and this is also the perfect way for Harper to feel like she’s giving back to the earth us humans are ruining through global warning. Why else would Katrina happen and why else would more and more tornadoes keep happening and destroying people’s lives?

Sure, she’s building a house, but she ends up finding romance with one of the members of the family who will be receiving the house when it’s done.

While How to Build a House sounds sweet and relatable, I found it fell flat on a lot of levels. First, I thought the metaphor was far too obvious and far too drawn out. Yes, the family fell apart like a tornado tore apart the house and it takes team work and communication to rebuild both. Oh, yeah, don’t forget that through team work and communication we can also stop global warming. It was just far. too. much.

I found Harper to be a smug main character. She seems bitter the entire time she’s on the trip, and she’s the one who chose to go. Her discussion of Christian and country music got so irritating because she thought she was so above both of them — and I thought that reiteration of Christian ideas as “bad” was irritating. I’m not sure that’s what Reinhardt intended, but if it was, I don’t think it hit the nail right on nor will the right audience get it. And if it’s not the intention, this is going to turn off many, many readers.

Perhaps my real issue was that this is targeted at the wrong audience. Teens aren’t going to buy this metaphor because it literally hits them far too hard over the head. I almost felt this a bit insulting to the reader. It could have been more smoothly woven or more interestingly developed. The smugness of Harper won’t resonate with readers who just aren’t going to give her a chance. Additionally, while it’s clear no one has a perfect family, I think the “broken family” trope has exhausted its opportunities in the teen lit world, and this is not breaking down any additional barriers. Maybe readers will relate to the sister/best friend relationship.

That said, I think this is a good read for adult audiences looking for something sentimental. That’s not to say this isn’t a worthwhile book; it’s just mismarketed. Even with Harper, the protagonist, as a teenager, I think adults will connect with the idea more because their ideas and ideals of family are more mature. This is the sort of book they can read and reflect upon and really feel connected to. There are a lot of moral ideas discussed here that will resonate with them. The story moves slow, and the metaphor will mean more to those who have literally built a family from the foundation, to the room, to the storm shelter. I don’t think teens can really relate to that.

Overall, I think teens will find some enjoyment in the idea of reaching outside oneself to help others in need, but beyond that, they may find the topic and metaphor overworked and underdeveloped. But handing this one to fans of family-centric or relationship-centric adult titles might be the perfect way to introduce readers to some of the stuff out there marketed for teens that really appeal to adults on a different level.

Double Take, Part X

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This double take courtesy of reader Terry from Nevada.

I think a number of us are familiar with this (frequently challenged) book:


There aren’t any similar covers, as far as I know. But, check out the (much tamer) paper back cover:

I dig this cover. I can’t get a date on it, but the original hardcover book was published in May 2004 by Henry Holt and Company. The coloring and style is more approachable than the original, I think. Alas. It sure looks familiar!


Steven Herrick’s Love, Ghosts, & Facial Hair was published in February 2004 by Simon Pulse.

I think both covers fit the books, so it’s impossible to say who did it better. I can say, though, I like this cover much better than the original one for Doing It. What about you?